Today is our last full day in our current home. The movers come tomorrow, the boxes are already packed, the walls are bare and damned if I can find half of the shit I need. My mom is here to help with Rex wrangling, packing, cleaning, etc. Mr. X is tearing his hair out at the details. I’m playing the pregnancy card like it’s going out of style.
Three years ago today, though, Michael Jackson died and Rex was conceived. It was the day of our egg retrieval that resulted in that amazing child we now have and we have come to recognize it each year. We could not have begun to imagine that three years in the future we would be moving and I would be pregnant again, this time naturally. No way, no how.
Finally, time moving has resulted in good things, not the same.