It’s never my intention to not stop in and write a little something on my blog.  I really enjoy blogging which is the only reason why I do it.  I love that I don’t feel like I have to post because advertisers expect me to.  I love that I am the editor-in-chief.  I love that I make the decisions on how, when, where…

but mostly what I love is having a relationship between my readers.  The rest of the stuff is just icing on the cake.

I don’t have much to tell you except I have SO MUCH to tell you.  Anna lost her first top tooth the other day and she looks so old, Noah told me he really likes it when people compliment his behavior, I held my mini-sessions on Saturday and had so much fun that I can’t believe I get to do this for a living, Brian keeps being supportive and amazing and is somehow becoming funnier every single day.  My house is messy and I clean it and it gets messy again.  Every minute of my life is taken up with something.  Eli is growing and makes the best noises with his mouth.  He pops his lips and he says “MAMAMAMA…MOM!”  Oh, it’s cute.

But my heart and my brain go back to the other night when I was having dinner with my soul sister.  Her cell phone rang and it was Brian.  MY HUSBAND.  Eli had fallen out of the highchair and he was in the emergency room.

My body was cold and shocked and so scared. so scared.  He had fallen onto his head, nothing to break his baby boy fall.

The tray of the highchair feels secure, it makes a noise like it’s latched, you get the sense of security but what we didn’t know is that when it’s pushed on from the babies’ side, it falls.  To the floor.

And baby follows.

Eli seems to be okay.  We are in the midst of our observation period (which gives us parents so much responsibility to WATCH EVERYTHING.)  His poor forehead is swollen and black and blue, his eye swollen.

I’m so sad for him and I’m so sad for my husband’s heart, who was just making dinner for the older kids when it happened but can’t help but to blame himself.

It is so not his fault.

I’m trying not to be angry at myself for being selfish and taking time to be with my best friend.

I’m just trying to ONLY be grateful that he’s back to popping his lips, saying “MAMAMAMA” and to have the responsibility to watch this precious, amazing, beautiful little boy all day long.

So, I’m here.

I’m just busy.

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