Last day for Sam

A rare appearance by him. I have so many more videos and pictures of Gabe lately, it seems, because Gabe is always all over me, yelling, “TAKE MY PICTURE!” or “MAKE A VIDEO OF ME!” Sam is more reticent. It’s nice when I can get him to share. He is just getting so big lately! He’s past my shoulder now, which is simply unacceptable. Of course, I’m short, and we’re still holding out hope he inherited taller genes. Really, though, would it be too much to ask for nature to allow me to grow taller while he does? (Sure would make those kitchen cabinets a little less annoying. Also, capri pants. I’d love to not look as though I just shrunk my trousers.)

So now I have a fourth-grader (despite Sam’s reluctance) and a kindergartner. And they’re both out playing in the neighborhood right now, which is the most bizarre thing ever, because how can I have kids that just…go, and I’m left saying, “Don’t run off and leave your little brother behind!” (I know he won’t, and even if he would, I would quickly HEAR ABOUT IT from Little Mister Indignant.) Shouldn’t somebody be sitting in my lap? Shouldn’t somebody be in that bouncy chair over in the corner…now, wait, what happened to the bouncy chair? I could swear it was here and occupied, just last night…

Everybody’s having babies, too, which goal I want to clarify quickly is not shared by us. No more babies; not even to try for a redhead (the question I get asked more often than the “trying for a girl” one). Nobody appears to be missing from our family, which is sort of the litmus test we use for such things. Still, it feels as though, with that decision made, we’ve officially moved on to the next stage of things, while many of my friends are opting for another go-around on the first ride. Honestly, this new stage is scary in its own right. New doors open, and all the things that were so very, very important in recent memory are fading. A brand new baby products store just opened downtown, and it looks awesome, but…*sigh* Somebody buy something nice for me, okay? (Well, not for me, you know. In my stead. As I would have liked to, had I a current need for a fleece diaper cover or teeny little twee moccasins.)

Caveat: the first person to try to “console” me, evil glint in his or her eye, with all the fun I’ll have shopping for aftershave, jockstraps, or prom boutonnieres gets it between the eyes.