Four

 

Lately it’s happened a lot.  I didn’t see this coming for some reason.  We’ll be at the aquarium, or Explora, or the library, and someone will ask, “How old is your baby?”  Followed by, “And your older daughter? And then, “Is it just the two of them?”  Yes. No.  I WANT to say I have four.  FOUR kids.  Sometimes I explain, sometimes I don’t.  I’ve been struggling recently with their absence.  I cried this morning and my three year old consoled me, saying the same things that I say to her every.single.day.  “Mom, let’s talk about the boys.  I want them to come back,” she says every night before bed.  I grossly underestimated the impact it would have on her.  It’s been three months and she still asks for them every day.  I know they are okay.  I know they will be okay.  We are all okay.  But would we have been better?