My nephew, Connor. The (current) youngest member of my family.
Does change make you nervous or excited?
A brand new member will join the Robinson family in February.
Everything will change.
No longer will I be able to hide out in my office while the older two play. That much was apparent yesterday while visiting with Baby Cousin Connor, five months old and as cute and as giggly as they come. (See above.)
No longer will our queen bed have space for a squirmy little girl.
No longer will I steal away to my daughter’s (abandoned) twin bed when I’m not sleeping well.
No longer will sleep be something I expect.
No longer will I have 9 uninterrupted hours on most weeks while Giovanna is at preschool.
No longer will I have the freedom for girl’s nights and three hour plays.
No longer will sweet and feisty Gigi be the baby of the family.
No longer will the strapping, blue-eyed Connor be the youngest of the grandkids.
No longer will we the Robinsons be a family of four, but a family of five.
Babies up the ante. They love us and challenge us in unforeseen ways.
I try not to dwell on impending change because I know I will adapt. We will adapt. The existence we currently occupy will no longer exist on its own, but rather as a layer beneath a new family.
Accepting change means we must learn to let go. Of old homes. Old relationships. Old dynamics. Old jobs. Old friends. Old habits. Old possessions. Old priorities.
Though life unfolds slowly and carefully while we’re in it, the memories become mere flashes. In retrospect we can sense the momentum of time. Giovanna’s babyhood came and went and I don’t know what I did with all of those days. But I do know I savored them.