I didn't expect tears,
and I didn't expect him to put his hands in front of mine to stop the tape.
At first he thought it was a game, as I took books off the shelf, so did he
He giggled as he did it, making his floor a library instead of the shelf. It was cute.
But now, now he dives into the boxes,
pulling out the things I've placed inside
and gazing at me through tearstained eyes, confused.
It didn't hit me til today, after days and days of this placing and packaging
that I'm placing his whole world into boxes.
These little walls, these four rooms. It's here we gave him a tour after he came home from the hospital, showing him each and every corner of our little home.
Daddy and me weeping and laughing because we'd never lived our life with three before,
and the joy spilled over.
We walked and talked through every room,
We were introducing him to life in a duplex, life in our home, our sanctuary.
For his 15 months, this has been his place
and I'm a little sorrowful now that we started to change it all upside down
without telling him why, first,
and without giving him--yes, him, my toddler--time to say goodbye to life as it has been.
I should have let him crawl through the rooms and touch the bookshelves and the tables and the toys in the places he knows they belong, remembering how they look,
soaking in his first home.
I did the same myself before each move as a child, few as they were
remembering life as it had been
and saying goodbye with gratitude to life as I knew it in that house,
preparing for a new place
bracing for change.
I know now that my home is where my family is
(so home is a great many places, now)
but he doesn't know yet,
so I regret, a little
placing his world
in boxes.
Day #301
and I didn't expect him to put his hands in front of mine to stop the tape.
At first he thought it was a game, as I took books off the shelf, so did he
He giggled as he did it, making his floor a library instead of the shelf. It was cute.
But now, now he dives into the boxes,
pulling out the things I've placed inside
and gazing at me through tearstained eyes, confused.
It didn't hit me til today, after days and days of this placing and packaging
that I'm placing his whole world into boxes.
These little walls, these four rooms. It's here we gave him a tour after he came home from the hospital, showing him each and every corner of our little home.
Daddy and me weeping and laughing because we'd never lived our life with three before,
and the joy spilled over.
We walked and talked through every room,
We were introducing him to life in a duplex, life in our home, our sanctuary.
For his 15 months, this has been his place
and I'm a little sorrowful now that we started to change it all upside down
without telling him why, first,
and without giving him--yes, him, my toddler--time to say goodbye to life as it has been.
I should have let him crawl through the rooms and touch the bookshelves and the tables and the toys in the places he knows they belong, remembering how they look,
soaking in his first home.
I did the same myself before each move as a child, few as they were
remembering life as it had been
and saying goodbye with gratitude to life as I knew it in that house,
preparing for a new place
bracing for change.
I know now that my home is where my family is
(so home is a great many places, now)
but he doesn't know yet,
so I regret, a little
placing his world
in boxes.
Day #301
ooh this one made me a lil sad
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