Finley continues to walk. She is almost running, luckily she circles back.
Briar and I went to her kindergarten screening today. She is a whiz, a charming, radiant whiz.
Avery is exploding. Language. Athletic prowess. Beauty. Staggering.

This morning, sitting at the office in a production meeting, I found myself looking around the table at the staff. A newly engaged 20-something, a 30-something mom to 2 under 2, a 40-something dad of two in elementary school, our partners, each a few years ahead of us in age and on the parenting ladder. It was all I could do not to cry. Blonde hair, red hair, olive skin, long lashes, tall, short, slight, athletic— all of us so very different, yet as I watched each set of lips move as people shared ideas, I felt a nearly immovable lump in my throat.

Babies every one. These adults I share an office with every day are someone’s child. The first baby, or maybe the last. The only girl, the coveted boy. They had first days, first loves and first homes. Sitting before me, a reflection of what is to come. I cannot wrap my mind around how it can be that one day our girls will be gone, spinning on an axis that does not include me.

Listening and watching as I choked back a sob I couldn’t have explained, I heard things that made me swoon. These sons and daughters are brilliant. Kind, intelligent, capable. Products of someone and yet wholly their own.

I am so proud and so very terrified, hoping that in this predestined game of chicken I can somehow make it to the end prepared for what is to be. My girls conquering.

* I began this post to share that Fin, despite edging ever closer to being a big girl, has returned to a sweet routine of nursing. If I didn’t know better I’d think she was helping me, a gentle crutch to prop me up until I’m strong enough to hold myself as she flits away. I’d never want her to worry about me in that way, but it is so very tempting to slip into this, luxuriating in the glow of this time.

Confidential to Crystal: Was thinking of adding a Mama Sap of Terror type tag. xxoo