Lillie turned eight years old yesterday. It's been a long eight years--two house moves, the international adoptions, a different job for Fred, a part-time job for me. I feel like it's twenty years.
Lillie stubbed her toe this afternoon and cried, and as I held her on my lap, we had this conversation:
Me: "Look at my big, eight-year old girl. Where did my little baby go?"
Lillie: "Mom, I grew up. But no matter how big I get, I'll always be your little baby."
Me: "And when you get big, I'll come and live next door to you and help take care of your kids."
Lillie, snuggling in and smiling sweetly: "That's right. I'm going to live just as close as I can to the nursing home that you're in."
About Me
- Thurbersmom
- Bedrock, Missouri
- Six kids, bio and adopted. Dogs, cats, birds, rabbits. Husband Fred (as in Flintstone). And me. Why blog? Well, some people are compelled to write things down, and some people aren't. It's like that tree that falls in the forest with no one there to hear it--if you don't write it down, did it really happen?
