This morning I had a transition meeting.
A meeting about Oldest transitioning to High School.
Um, what?
Okay, I know this it is so cliche to say things like don't blink, where did the time go, wasn't it just yesterday?
But seriously,
wasn't it just yesterday?
I came across a segment on Facebook from the TODAY show, about a woman who talked about her surviving premature triplet.
I watched the piece, and cried as I normally do when I see stories on preemies.
And when I couldn't sleep last night after my 15 games of candy crush, one chapter of a new book, taking off the blanket, turning up the fan, and flipping the pillow, I walked into oldest's room just to watch him sleep.
I thought about the nights when the ventilator's whooshing sound used to lull me to sleep.
But then I would wake up every few hours to the beeping of it.
Terrified he was aspirating ,but really it was just him turning over.
He would look at me.
And smile.
Always smiling.
That preemie child is graduating 8th grade next month.
Without a trach and ventilator attached to him .
Without the diapers (that I swore he would never get out of because potty training was hell)
With the ability to clap his hands (which I swore at the age of two he would never be able to "cross the midline" during his Physical Therapy sessions)
My talking, walking, still smiling 2lbs 9 oz baby.
The problems that you think you will never get through somehow, some way, become the past.
The bitch of it is, of course, is there are new problems.
Bigger issues than potty training and crossing the midline.
But this kid.
This truly, miracle child who survived quite the odds...
this kid who fought more pneumonias than I can count
who couldn't breathe on his own til the age of two
who was in therapies for a good portion of his young years
who missed out on Saturday soccer games and mommy and me classes
who didn't have a voice to hear til the trach came out
who lived in a NICU for 180 days
This kid
is now an almost 15 year old, kind hearted, smiley, wonderful, occasional eye roller teen who amazes me at defying the odds.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is
stop blinking.
But if you have to
take it all in.
Because one day
your kid will be potty trained.
A meeting about Oldest transitioning to High School.
Um, what?
Okay, I know this it is so cliche to say things like don't blink, where did the time go, wasn't it just yesterday?
But seriously,
wasn't it just yesterday?
I came across a segment on Facebook from the TODAY show, about a woman who talked about her surviving premature triplet.
I watched the piece, and cried as I normally do when I see stories on preemies.
And when I couldn't sleep last night after my 15 games of candy crush, one chapter of a new book, taking off the blanket, turning up the fan, and flipping the pillow, I walked into oldest's room just to watch him sleep.
I thought about the nights when the ventilator's whooshing sound used to lull me to sleep.
But then I would wake up every few hours to the beeping of it.
Terrified he was aspirating ,but really it was just him turning over.
He would look at me.
And smile.
Always smiling.
That preemie child is graduating 8th grade next month.
Without a trach and ventilator attached to him .
Without the diapers (that I swore he would never get out of because potty training was hell)
With the ability to clap his hands (which I swore at the age of two he would never be able to "cross the midline" during his Physical Therapy sessions)
My talking, walking, still smiling 2lbs 9 oz baby.
The problems that you think you will never get through somehow, some way, become the past.
The bitch of it is, of course, is there are new problems.
Bigger issues than potty training and crossing the midline.
But this kid.
This truly, miracle child who survived quite the odds...
this kid who fought more pneumonias than I can count
who couldn't breathe on his own til the age of two
who was in therapies for a good portion of his young years
who missed out on Saturday soccer games and mommy and me classes
who didn't have a voice to hear til the trach came out
who lived in a NICU for 180 days
This kid
is now an almost 15 year old, kind hearted, smiley, wonderful, occasional eye roller teen who amazes me at defying the odds.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is
stop blinking.
But if you have to
take it all in.
Because one day
your kid will be potty trained.
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