11 weeks.

I don't know where the time has gone. I find it really hard to believe that it has been 11 weeks already since our sweetest little boy passed. It doesn't make sense to me. I cannot fathom just how exactly we have been able to...not only survive, but slowly starting to figure out how to live again.

Dinky wouldn't want us to be sad all the time. That wasn't his life and that wasn't how we lived when he was still here Earth side with us. We had our sad moments but our lives were not sad. Sad situations, yes, but it was never ... sad. How could we continue to live in the sheer sadness, Dinky wouldn't want that. He wouldn't want us to cry all the time.

I still cry. I cry a lot. I cry over the smallest things. And that's a good thing. Tears are healing. I have been slowly, very slowly moving things from all over the house and into his room. Which makes me cry. Every time I put something else into his room the tears call. Not hard and fast, but that gut wrenching slow cry.

Tink calls everything small Phoenix sized. It's starting to drive us NUTS. Phoenix blueberries, french fries, oranges, squirrels, rocks...everything small is Phoenix. It's batty. She's also obsessed with a baby sister. All the time she's constantly asking for and chattering about baby sisters. Baby baby baby. Silly child. You're killing us.

I've started crafting a lot more and I have found some pretty neat new things to try so I cannot wait to order some more supplies for something totally different. I just need the money for it. Which is fine, I'm planning them for Christmas gifts so if I start now I can save for them.

I can't write any more. I just needed to write... something.