I look down at him from my place on the table. The painting behind him brings back memories. Nearly three year old memories of sitting in this very spot and looking at him. It seems like it should feel the same. But it doesn’t. Not at all.
His face has softened into a sweet smile.
“I keep seeing this, and I don’t know why. But I picture us all walking down the street. For some reason, Baby is the same age she is now but Bun is walking. And as we come up to the street, Baby reaches down and takes Bun’s hand and says, ‘Wait! We have to see if cars are coming!’”
I smile back at him. Because I’ve seen that too. When I allow myself to stop for a minute and realize that we are creating siblings that will have a relationship. We’re making her a big sister and we can’t wait to see her play the part.
And I smile because even in the midst of moving, and planning for preschool, and full time jobs on top of parenting a toddler, and figuring out what’s for dinner, and packing, and loans, and home inspections… in the midst of all of that, we’re both thinking about it. It’s not like the first time, when we thought about our new little life almost constantly. But we are thinking about it. And in a small moment here or a brief conversation there, we’re sharing it.
And suddenly, if only for a brief, fleeting moment, it begins to feel the same.
linking up with Heather to Just Write.
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