The woman writes beautifully but this piece overwhelms your heart..
Sunday morning started slowly. We were in recovery. Recovery from the first full week of school and a Saturday where the kids played four different soccer games on four different fields in two towns, a half hour apart, between the hours of 8 am and 5:30 pm. (May we never have an 8 am game again.)
Plus someone got a fever midway through the day. Also, hot.
We survived, sure. But it wasn’t pretty. That made Sunday a day of rest, in every way we could manage it.
We woke up late, and I made whole wheat banana waffles. Then we lay around while we figured out the day. At a certain point someone asked me what an isolette was and so I sat in front of my computer, don’t mind if I do, and started scrolling through a multitude of old photos of our four kids.
We looked at videos of…
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