It's now August, and I have written two ....TWO posts on this blog this year. Holy cow. I would apologize and I think maybe I should.
Or maybe it's time to acknowledge that you guys are no longer babies... and the proverbial baby book has come to a close.
But I'm not ready.
I want to write about you more often and all the time. Because you are so funny. And right now, I feel the time slipping through my fingers and the whispers of "Mommy I love you" and the never-ending temper tantrums that still happen are getting farther away.
You are my only babies. I think you will be. I don't want any other babies. It's "James and Stella" and that's all.
You're my world. You're my entire cause of breaking down mentally on rides home from picking you up from school, "Why oh why can't you just be quiet and stop hitting your sister!?!?"
But being a mother has made me a better person.
And I should write about that more often.
I think you are my next book. I think that's where we are headed. Because I have some tales for you guys. Boy, do I.