The weather out is absolutely beautiful. The trees are red and air has just a little brrr! to it, but nothing to get in a tissy about.
Ethan is growing up, just as they say they do, before my very eyes. He is rough and funny. The time I am with him feels stolen. More and more, I can't believe he is mine.
He sings constantly. He plays the guitar ("Can I make it bling, mommy?") I do my best to show him how to hold it but his little hand isn't big enough to cradle the neck. So he lets the neck rest on the floor and strums the strings with his other hand while singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider." Which, by the way, is the song he requested I do for worship next Sunday.
Other than that life is insane.
I find myself in quiet moments repeating the 23rd Psalm or just telling myself to breath deeply.
I miss writing terribly but more so miss being aware of what is going on around me.
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