I officially, as of today, have no more babies. Everyone is at school. And I didn't cry this morning dropping off Arina. But I wept last night. Hours of weeping. Hours of not sleeping and weeping.
I was lamenting the loss of babies, lamenting the unfairness of life. There are only little kids in my house now, little turning into big kids. Kids who can choose their own clothes (which remarkable style, guess who they get that from!), make their own meals, voice opinions, make some of their own decisions. They've turned to tearing around instead of careening. Thundering laughter and roaring giggles instead of twittery laughter.
I look back, even now and wonder when they got so big. So fast. When did I turn from 20 to 30? How could they have changed so much when I just barely blinked. I'll blink again and they'll have cars and careers and children of their own.
And so the weeping begins again.
I'm happy and excited for their futures, to see what they'll look like at 20, who they'll fall in love with, how they will be there for one another. I am. I'm just not ready.
But then again, are you ever?