as we approach Punkin’s second birthday, i am spending a lot of time worrying. i’d say “in contemplation”, but the plain and simple fact is that it is worry.
we had an early celebration of his birthday yesterday. Elmo plates, napkins, party hats and tablecloth, approximately 20 balloons blown up by el Jefe’ (without hyperventilating, and 20 because the 12-pack did not include purple), cheese and crackers and crab dip, chicken and noodles, carrot cake (sans raisins, because i remembered after pulled the cake out of the oven), cards and presents, all of which we shared with Nonna, Paw Paw, Gabby (their dog), La La (Punkin’s Godmother, and Corkie (La La’s 23-year-old daughter). Punkin got a lot of good loot and frankly any loot is more than we need.
we shared news of the Peanut with La La and Corkie. La La had noticed my ever-expanding size but was polite; of course they expressed happiness for us. Corkie announced she may be moving to Texas before the end of the year; my heart aches for La La as her life has been Corkie for the past 23 years.
Punkin loves to have company, and he sure acts up/shows off when people come to visit. he loves his grandparents; he loves the people in his life. should Corkie move to Texas, we can probably explain that. but what if el Jefe’ gets promoted and we move to the other part of the state? new friends, new teachers, new doctors, and very little Nonna, Paw Paw, Gabby, or La La. what happens when Nonna and Paw Paw succumb to age? or one of our dogs, his favorite, the incontinent one, who turns 15 in calendar years either this month or next, just doesn’t get up anymore? is Punkin going to resent being a big brother?
change is a fact of life, yet why do i worry so much about shielding the Punkin from the inevitable?
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