June 13, 2015

June 13, 2014

June 13, 2013

June 13, 2012

June 13, 2012:

I have been waking up an hour before my alarm clock for an entire week, which is not like me at all. I’ve been anticipating this day, Lavi’s last day of Kindergarten, and I have been losing sleep over it. My baby is now a First Grader. I am so proud of Lavi. He is an amazing kid. Everyone loves him. It completely kills me that he is not a tiny baby anymore. He is BIG now. I wish I could have eaten him when he was tiny. Chewed on his cheeks, his arms, his legs. Ingesting him. Perhaps I did. Everyday I eat my kids – I love them so much – it is the only way to mother them. To pinch them and squeeze them. How else can I believe that they are real? It is a ridiculous notion that I grew this child inside my body, then gave birth to him. I watch him, it is like watching my heart and my liver and my kidneys and my guts walking around in the world. I want to stop him from growing up, I never want to stop him from growing up. I tell you, I want to eat him. So he can be a part of my body once again. I will have to settle for pinching his arms and legs. Squeezing him so tight. Holding him to me. Hiding and jumping out at him, screaming BOO. All of these things, and it is never enough. The love is too big to hold.