Today, at about 1:36 in the afternoon, it hit me.
Oh, this girl. So strong, so sensitive, so smart, so fierce, so mature, so wild.
For the past six years we have been loading up our kids to Green Bay camp for our church’s family camp and it was every bit as fun, exhausting, dirty, hilarious, and wonderful as it’s ever been this summer.
As much as I am relieved to have somehow survived the sleepless night and relentless challenges of caring for infants, it is somewhat bittersweet to see my last baby turn four years old and then HOP ON A SKATEBOARD.
I was a bear today. Growly, bristly and short-tempered, for no good reason. I hate days like that.
After a burnt dinner, I scowled and put the dishes away, tidying up the relentless mess and feeling worn.
Every time we’re at the beach, she looks at me with her big, round hazel eyes and asks if I will jump off the dock with her.
And I say yes whenever I can.