Someone had given it to Brian to give to me. So he stuck it in with the swimsuits and goggles the swimmy diapers and towels.
The girls out-number me.
They out-energize me.
They out-emotion me.
They out-wit me. (only sometimes)
I just don't want to forget...
Oh and a FIRST?
Vivian is sleeping through the night. 12 hours a night. Yes 12. Yes she is 3 months old.
God is spoiling me. At least for a day or 2. Or a week or two. I'll take it!
Let Me Hold You Longer
by Karen Kingsbury
Long ago you came to me, a miracles of first:
First smiles and theeth and baby steps,
A sunbeam on the burst.
But on e day you will move away and leave me to your past,
And I will be left thinking of a lifetime of your lasts...
The last time that I held a bottle to your baby lips,
The last time that I lifted you and held you on my hip.
The last night when you woke up crying, needing to be walked.
When last you crawled up with your blanket, wanting to be rocked.
The last time when you ran to me, still small enough to hold.
The last time that you said you'd marry me when you grew old.
Precious, simple moments and bright flashes from your past -
Would I have held on longer if I'd known they were your last?
Our last adventure to the park, your final midday nap,
The last time when you wore your favorite faded baseball cap.
Your last few hours of kindergarten,
Those last days of first grade,
Your last at bat in Little League, last colored picture made. I never said good-bye to all your yesterdays long passed.
So what about tomorrow -- Will I recognize your lasts?
The last time that you catch a frog in that old backyard pond.
The last time that you run barefoot across our fresh-cut lawn.
Silly, scattered images will represent your past.
I keep on taking pictures never quite sure of your lasts....
The last time that I comb your hair or stop a pillow fight
The last time that I pray with you and tuck you in at night.
The last time when we cuddle with a book, just me and you.
The last time you jump in our bed and sleep between us two.
The last piano lesson, last vacation to the lake.
Your last few weeks of middle school, last soccer goal you make.
I look ahead and dream of days that haven't come to pass.
But as I do, I sometimes miss today's sweet, precious lasts...
My life keeps moving faster, stealing precious days that pass.
If I could freeze the hands of time, I'd hold on to your lasts.
For come some bright fall morning, you'll be going far away.
College life will beckon in a brilliant sort of way.
One last hug, one last good-bye, one quick and hurried kiss.
One last time to understand just how much you'll be missed.
I'll watch you leave and think how fast our time together passed.