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Living in Limbo, Preschool and the Number 5💔

Updated: Jan 19

Last night, I kissed Mike goodnight knowing it could very well be the last time I do. Then, I painted the kid’s bathroom. I also painted our dining room and now I’m eyeing up our spare bedroom. Maybe I’m totally losing my mind or maybe it’s boredom. In our old life, Mike and I would go downstairs after the kids fell asleep, pop some popcorn and binge watch Catfish -unless of course it was Bachelor Monday. Now, everyone is asleep before 7:30pm and I don’t know what to do with myself except ANYTHING that distracts me from the loneliness of my thoughts. I suppose I am subconsciously – or perhaps consciously, trying to avoid more pain.


A month ago there was no time to breath. In between every one of the kid’s needs, was a need from Mike. It felt like I was responding to physical and emotional needs every minute of the day, and often the night. Now, Mike’s not calling my name because he can no longer talk. I can’t make him dinner, because he can no longer eat. I needed a break but now I want that chaos back.


Living in this limbo period is so so emotionally confusing. For someone who is so annoyingly Type A, the unknown of this is testing me. It is in my make up to be “doing”. To be planning. I ask the nurse every single day “how much longer?” but there is no way for them to know the answer. I don’t ask because I want Mike to die. I love him with my whole heart and know that a huge part of me will be leaving with him. I ask because he desperately needs and deserves relief. And because it’s time for my kids to have some normalcy as they’ve already seen and heard more than any toddler should.


The other day, someone asked me how old Dominic is. I said “he’s one” but then followed with “he’ll actually be two next month!” – which is totally absurd in itself. I instinctively thought to myself, how will we celebrate?


I felt guilty for having this thought (like, how can you possibly think about a birthday party right now you horrible, heartless person?) but one of our nurses who also happens to be my daily sounding board, reminded me that guilt is when you do something with bad intentions. Wanting to still celebrate my baby is no reason to feel guilty.


Lately as we walk through the neighborhood, Dante comments on how excited he is to have so many houses to trick or treat at this year. He says he wants to be a vitamin for Halloween. A vitamin. I’m hoping he changes his mind on that one but I love that his innocence allows him to have these kind of thoughts right now. I don’t want anything to take away that innocence prematurely. The boys still deserve to create memories and be celebrated. That’s why this is so emotionally confusing!!! I am heartbroken and I wish the whole world would just take a minute but with two very young kids, life can't just stop.




In fact, Dante is supposed to start preschool next week. We’ve been reading books about preschool and for the very first time he said “I think I might like school, but I’m not sure yet.”

This next chapter for Dante is so bittersweet for me. It’s not so much about the time away from him (because it’s literally only a few hours a week) but it’s more so that this is the beginning of a new chapter – a chapter of less constant “togetherness”. I think I’m struggling because life is changing so much and it’s just another dang thing that I need to let go of.


A physical life with my husband. A two parent household. Incomplete family vacations and holidays for the rest of our lives. Dante and Dominic growing up despite my constant research of ways to freeze time. These are only some of the things that I’m forced to accept. Dante has helped me get through the most difficult times in my life. God delivered me this angel baby at a time in my life that I needed happiness. My mom died three months after Dante was born after fighting illness for a long time. He gave me a new purpose. He needed me but I needed him too. Those middle of the night feedings in his rocking chair, just the two of us, brought me as much comfort as they did him. He is three and so dependent on me, but I think I’ve been dependent on him, too. That makes it hard to let go of this phase of life.

Dante is super affectionate towards me. He is seriously a mini Michael. So gentle and so sweet. Whether we’re in bed (#cosleeping for the win) or on the couch watching Rugrats, he’ll put his little arm around me. The boys’ affection is sort of my medicine.

“the human touch is that little snippet of physical affection that brings a bit of comfort, support and kindness. It doesn’t take much from the one who gives it, but can make a huge difference in the one who receives it.” – Mya Robarts Dante is kind and caring. He’s excited about life. He is so so smart but more importantly, he is determined, brave, and thinks hard. He problem solves. I can’t wait to see all this little boy becomes. Wish us luck. I’m sure I'll be total waterworks in the parking lot as I leave.......if I leave. ;)


Off to meet the teacher!

I do wonder why this all has to happen at the very same time though – the start of preschool, Mike’s best friend’s wedding, and our 6th wedding anniversary are just a few days away. But I suppose there is no “right” time. Maybe there’s just a slightly less horrible time. I don’t know. Lastly, I've always been sort of skeptical of signs from heaven. I've always wanted to believe that some communication can be possible but have had a lot of phony experiences in the past. We've always associated my mom with the number "5". Her birthday was 1/5/55 and she used "5" for everything. Lately, I've looked at the clock at 5:55pm EVERY SINGLE DAY. I was laying in bed with Mike the other day having flashbacks of when I said goodbye to my mom for the last time. Right after this thought, I grabbed my phone and BAM - 5:55pm. I'd like to think it's a nod from my mom just letting me know she's here and she'll be ready for Mike. Who knows. If it gives me some comfort, I’ll let it. It is at least a little weird though, right? ❤️

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