I hate that my life with kids is so much “easier” now that Oliver is gone.
Twins are fucking hard. Especially newborn twins. And a toddler. But now, things aren’t really that hard. I mean, other than having a 3.5 year old. That can be trying. But not anything like what a circus act we were, doing anything out of the house.
I want him back so badly. Each time we easily pack up and go to the store, go to an event, go anywhere, it’s a painful, gut-wrenching reminder of losing him. I desperately want to go back in time.