Spencer running in a circle wearing a pirate hat and playing a harmonica for 15 minutes today.
He is my baby... for a bit longer.
I struggle, deeply, with change. GOOD change sends my world into an utter tailspin of ridiculous irrationality.
The last day of second grade, I cried myself to sleep. I loved second grade and third, I was sure would be awful.
The night before my parents left me at BYU, I laid in their bed sobbing, begging them not to leave me.
The night before my freaking WEDDING I had an emotional meltdown so epic you'd think it was an arranged marriage. I WANTED to marry Derek, I was HAPPY but change was coming and it freaked me out.
Whenever we move, I have emotional meltdowns as I pack boxes.
When I went into labor with Henry, I hadn't had a chance to freak out yet, so I settled for utter and complete denial. I couldn't be in LABOR, I was never actually going to have a baby! I was just real real fat. Derek had to FORCE me to go to the hospital.
And the night I went into labor with Spencer, I rocked my baby Henry to sleep and sobbed, knowing, as happy as were to be having a new baby, it was CHANGING everything. And my heart hurt.
So, today, as I watched my big boy who is still my baby play, I struggled against emotional meltdown, KNOWING that as happy as I'll be to welcome our new baby, and wishing at 39 weeks, that he'd come NOW, I sat fighting the change I feel coming. So, I just sat on the couch and cried until I had to put Spencer on timeout for not listening. :)
Change is hard for me. I'm not an embracer of change like some people. I fight it, and cry and throw a fit, then accept it, and I'm fine. But, apparently, I simply cannot move forward in my life, without mourning the things I'm losing. The death of one moment in my life gives way to more blessings, more love, more EVERYTHING that I know God wants me to have, but my humanness just requires that I have a hissy fit first.
And I'm always grateful for the amazing blessings that we do receive, when I finally stop being stupid, and allow the change to come.
But holy heck, it hurts.