My friend, French Me, lost her dad to cancer this past week. He had been diagnosed with the disease over a year ago, but even then the end came suddenly and all too fast. Cancer sucks in every form, every shape, and every way you look at it. Especially when those you know and love are struggling to find hope and courage to continue against the odds. I'm digressing here a bit, but I just hate this disease.
That being said, French Me headed off to Paris late last night in a blinding snowstorm to be with her mom for today's funeral. She left me her two little guys, ages 5 and 3, and so far everything on this end has been just fine. We've had a gloriously mild and sunny day, perfect for throwing all 5 of the big kids outside while I sat and cuddled a teething Rosebud.
It all goes to quick in this life. One minute, your changing some one's teeny tiny bottom and the next they are accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature. (One can dream, right? Sure as heck won't be the Peace Prize...) One day, you are a little person, asking tons of questions of your all knowing father, the next it's you who are helping them cross the street and double checking that they've taken their medication.
It all goes to quick.
It's nuts downstairs right now as I hide upstairs and post this. I can hear them all running, screaming, playing, living. As much as I dreaming of that whacking great big glass/bottle of wine I'm going to drink later, I'm just trying to enjoy these noises, this life right now.
Bubba-Love and his buddy are playing Connect-Four by just shoving the checkers in that thing, opening the bottom and laughing their heads off. The Princess is throwing teddy bears around the hallway while her friend, Sylvan, tries to catch them. Mini-Husband is pretending to be me: i.e completely oblivious to all of it while he plays his train game on the computer. Rosebud is, miraculously, sleeping.
I'm about to be invaded so I'll need to end this quick. But how can I? Today has been like being inside a snow globe.