There’s just something about taking all the baby furniture out of what once was the last nursery of your youngest child…while Taylor Swift’s Never Grow Up plays softly in the background…and you set that twelve year old, disassembled crib on the sidewalk in front of your house, as it awaits its new owners to take it home and give it renewed purpose and a fresh little babe to keep safe as they grow…there’s something so inevitable about this whole process. Today was that day, and it’s stinging just a touch. It’s always felt like a means to an end…but I never thought what I would do once my ends didn’t require those means.
We just shuffled all the gym equipment down to the garage, repainted that room and called it Levi’s, build a loft full bed and new dresser in there, then moved all the baby furniture from Vince’s room to the garage, took apart the bunk bed in Tim and Levi’s room and moved it to Vince’s room along with Levi’s old dresser, built another loft full bed and dresser in now only Tim’s room. And as I sit here, feeling drained after working tirelessly for the past two weeks getting this shuffle executed, dried tears on my cheeks, I wonder about the day we take those loft beds apart, when those are no longer needed in those rooms, in this house, or in my personal day to day life. When the kids aren’t kids, and decisions are theirs to make, and I’m no longer on the hook financially for all their worldly possessions and food intake. What a mess I’ll be when those days arrive!
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