I find myself asking, once again, how can it be that time has slipped by me so quickly. Just a few days ago, it seems, we brought Joey home from Baptist Hospital. And now, quick as a whistle, three months has come and gone and it's time for Jude to return to work. Three months of my youngest son spending one-on-one time with his mommy, breast feeding day and night, growing like a weed, learning to smile and learning new sounds to make when he gazes into our eyes. Three months, for me, of reassurance, knowing Joey was with his mommy.
Tomorrow, Alison, our new nanny, will take care of our Joey while we're at work and J.P. is at school. Alison's great and it will be fine, I know, but I find myself transported back in time to when J.P. was three months old and we were leaving him with Carley for the first time. I felt a little nervous, a little guilty and kind of sad. That's exactly the way I feel - again - now. And I know it's natural. I especially kow it's natural, having been through it before, but I still feel that way.
Tonight, for our last supper, so to speak, the four of us - my family - went to Burger Up on 12th Avenue for dinner. The weather was perfect and we sat outside on the patio. We saw some friends there, a reminder of how much I love living where I live. Dinner was fantastic. J.P. was in a great mood and Joey slept. At one point, I stole a quiet moment to look around the table and marvel at my family and how God has blessed me with Jude, J.P. and Joey. It's more than I deserve, for sure. PJ3.
While we ate, J.P. flirted through the window of Las Paletas with the girl working inside. After dinner, we bought some popsicles from her and ate them on the bench outisde, facing 12th Avenue. Jude and I watched traffic go by, as J.P. ran up and down the sidewalk in front of us, a strawberry popsicle dangling in his hand. A perfect spring evening with my family.
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