Weepy pregnant lady in the house

A generous friend gave us a gigantic bag of her 8-year old daughter's outgrown clothes this weekend. So, I decided to make my Fourth of July a clothes-sorting day: I organized all of EB's clothes and went through her baby stuff in search of unisex onesies for Baby Stephen. Simple enough, right? Except I forgot to mention that I've been a bit crazy lately -- in a weepy, nesting, pregnant-lady sort of a way.

My day went something like this:
1. Open up a bag of EB's baby clothes and pull out a cute onesie
2. Marvel at how much she has grown
3. Show it to K
4. Kiss EB and tell her not to grow up too fast
5. Break down in tears

K soon realized that nothing good could come out of him sticking around the house with a semi-crazy pregnant lady, so he sought refuge in a trip to Sam's Club with EB. So there I was, all alone, opening up bag after bag, pulling out EB's little bottles and outfits, marveling at them, and dissolving into tears.

Indeed, my pregnancy hormones have taken me for a ride on the crazy train.

Wacky hormones aside, the cliche is all too true: Time flies by way too quickly and kids grow up too darned fast. Just look at the little slippers that we used to put on her little feet...and compare them to her "new" hand-me-down boots. In the blink of an eye, my baby girl has grown into a little lady.

So when EB asked me to have a "sleepover" with her last night, I happily said yes. I had a great time, reading to EB, chatting with her about this and that, playing with flashlights, and finally coaxing her to close her eyes at around 11 PM. Even though it meant that I had to give up the very little time I have to get stuff done around the house, the "stuff" can wait. Pretty soon, EB is going to be off to sleepover parties with her friends, and this precious time that we spent together will be but a distant memory for her.