(no subject)
I found Eleanor sleeping in our bed again, just now. She was also last night. I often find Eleanor or Molly in our bed when I turn in but, to be honest, I don't mind. There's something really touching about finding your kid curled up (or sprawled out) in your spot on the bed. I don't know what it is. And I've grown to appreciate the ritual of carrying them back to bed; the extra few moments I get to spend holding them.
So I lifted Eleanor out of our bed and, for just a moment, before she wrapped her arms and legs around me, her legs hung down toward the floor and, MY GOD, she's getting so big. I couldn't help but cry silently as I held her. She's growing up too quickly. They both are. And it scares the shit out of me.
So I lifted Eleanor out of our bed and, for just a moment, before she wrapped her arms and legs around me, her legs hung down toward the floor and, MY GOD, she's getting so big. I couldn't help but cry silently as I held her. She's growing up too quickly. They both are. And it scares the shit out of me.