I had a moment, while driving south to my parent's house for the
holidays, when I looked back in the rear-view mirror and saw two
children and thought to myself, "My God. They're mine." It's a feeling
I have regularly but there's something about the holidays that makes
everything feel so... momentous?
It's like... Last
year? There were only three of us. And two years before that? Only two
of us. And the year before that? Just me. In five years I have gone
from driving to my parent's house alone for Christmas to driving down
with my family of four. Family of four. WTF? How the hell did we...
It's
amazing to think that Fable, so much a part of all our lives, didn't
even exist last Christmas. It wasn't until New Years Eve that we
decided to "see what happened" in the baby #2 department. I was
pregnant a month later and now? We're a family of four, lounging about
my parent's house, feeling like we've been a fab-foursome all along.
Fable Luella, almost three-months old.
The
other night I asked my Nana, the matriarch of my mother's side of the
family, how it felt to look around at all her children and
grandchildren and great grandchildren and think "if it wasn't for me...
none of these people would be here."...
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