Back in August, on Olivia’s first few days of school, I was an emotional mess. I even cried at work on the first day that O got on the bus to go to school.
I was so worried about her. She was so little. She was so delicate. She was my baaaayyyybeeeee.
Today? Ehh, it’s all good.
Seriously, though, she’s doing really well. She’s been back at school since the Christmas break and has not worn a Pull Up once. She’s had two accidents in three weeks. That’s pretty awesome, right?
Once upon a time I was that mom who dreaded waking her sweet girls up in the mornings. It was so hard to disturb those little cherubs.
Now? I’m lucky if I wake up before Olivia most days so that’s not an issue. At nine years old, Alyssa doesn’t present quite the angelic picture she once did, even asleep. I get up, I do my thing, I turn on the light for A and she gets up about five minutes later. No fuss, no stress.
I wish I could say that all aspects of parenting get easier with time. I’m not sure easier is the right word. Different is better. Things change, some things get easier and other things, harder things, crop up.
We roll with the punches, we celebrate the good stuff and try to let the less than good stuff flitter away like the dust bunnies Orville likes the chase around the kitchen.
A mom, a dad and two daughters. We're living ordinary lives with a twist of 5p- (Cri du Chat) for spice. But we're about so much more than our younger daughter's genetic diagnosis.
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