Whoa means nothing to a Swedish horse... or a growing three-year old.

    The lights went out this weekend and at the home of the Spencer girls, that could only mean one thing... time to build a fort. We pulled all the dinning room chairs into my bedroom and covered them with our spare blankets. We ate dinner with our flashlights, read stories and ate tootsie rolls.

    Addi's been asleep for hours, but I'm still sitting under our fort. I can't help but laugh because the image of this, me sitting Indian style under a bunch of blankets surrounded by all my daughters’ beloved stuffed friends, is the near physical representation of something that's been bothering me for a while now. My baby's growing up, way too fast, and it's only going to be but a moment longer before she's no longer my baby girl, my monkey... and she's off on her own doing big girl things.

    I have a little confession... Addi sleeps with me nearly every night. She falls asleep in her own bed, without a fuss... just like my little angel, and around 11pm when I go to bed, I pick her up and bring her to bed with me. I know... what the heck am I thinking, right? I feel like I'm missing so much with her. I love that her father is so active with her and sees her as often as he does, but sometimes my selfish side kicks in and I wish I could steal away more time.

    She's turning three in one month; moving to pre-school; too big to wear toddler sizes and is quite certain she could take care of herself some days. I think it’s safe to say I'm taking her turning three harder than I will me turning thirty.

    1 comment:

    Martini Mom said...

    My son (who's 8) sleeps with me more often now than he ever has. And it's me prompting it. When I'm feeling stressed or nervous or depressed or anything remotely negative, pulling him into bed with me immediately makes me feel better. I worry that I'm depending on him too much, but he's just so sweet when he's sleeping...


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