The movers will be here in less than 24 hours.
I have a newborn baby blissfully pressed to my chest by a long swath of fabric.
My first-born is spending way too much time with the iPad. In 2 days she will be off to Florida with her grandparents and I won't see her for over a week. Crushing.
We are cramming boxes full of stuff that, until now, I deemed we couldn't do without. With small children, routine is everything.
As I move through this space, the one that has welcomed both of our children and held our lives for the past 5 years, I unexpectedly find myself treading water while memory after memory is rediscovered just as misplaced items are rediscovered with a victorious, "here it is!" Today there have been many moments when tears well and my breath leaves me. I bite my lip and my throat burns to not cry.
I can't believe this is finally happening. Medical school, internship, residency and fellowship are over. He's done. He's part of a faculty now rather than being at the mercy of a faculty. At last we are allowed to live and to plan as if no deadline exists because for once, no deadline exists. On the precipice of 40 years old I feel like I can finally live as an adult and not a student, a mini personal revolution of sorts.
Even as the sentimental moments roll in and out like a steady tide, I am stricken by two things:
I am damn happy!
And so thankful...for everything.