Year Three

I am pretty sure that three years ago, I did not spend my Sundays lip syncing to Raffi and performing puppet shows with bath toys over the top of the curtain so that I could stay in the shower just a few more minutes. I think I may have read books with more than 10 words to a page. I may even have finished a project a little more time consuming than building a lego tower.

Year Three has been filled with ups and downs, hellos and goodbyes, firsts and lasts. It held the first child to be adopted from my home, the first to be reunified, the first to be the third in the home, the first (and second, and third) to not speak English, the first (what I consider to be a) baby. It's held long, carefully planned moves and very quick barely-time-for-good-bye moves. It's held arrivals with a few days notice and arrivals with 30 minutes notice. It's held very easy kiddos and tough nuts to crack. It's held much, much joy and much, much heartache.

Entering the fourth year, we are approaching the disbanding of our little United Nations. Soon, a little toddler bed in the corner of the room will be vacant. There will be no kissing good night Puppy, Bear, Panda, Flower, Water and Little Guy. There will instead be an emptiness in our family which I imagine will be filled with another story, another hello, another set of firsts, favorites, and fun. The girls, as long as they are here, and I will continue on our ride, ready for the next kiddo who needs a good stop for a while.