When I first shared this, I had no idea I’d be holding someone’s pee cup again this week. I guess I should’ve known. My babes may be older, taller, and a wee bit wiser, but some things remain the same: one still asks for braids nightly, the girls still fuss over their bro, and the littlest still LOVES her mama. They all do. And the firsts and the lasts just keep. on. coming.
The struggle was real from the moment I woke today. We had to be up before the sun for an early doctor’s appointment 30 minutes away. You may be noticing a theme in my posts: we go to the doctor a LOT. I’m chalking this up to either the size of our household or the slim chance we’re hypochondriacs. I’m going to go with the size of our brood.
Our appointment went well; no waiting, friendly service, and Mar actually giggled through her blood draw. What kid, or grown-up for that matter, laughs when having a needle in their vein? She’s always been a tough cookie. Then we had to collect the urine sample and I was the designated cup holder. My daughter and I had never been in this situation before, and she once again giggled and said, “I can’t go. This is so weird.” In my world of…
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