My baby is getting large. And OLD!
Jillian will be one year old in 28 days. I am freaking out, to be quite honest. Her birthday, which once seemed to be ages away is now THIS MONTH.
Didn’t I just have her?* My tiny baby, whom I could stick in my purse, has been replaced seemingly overnight with an almost-toddler. She’s crawling like a demon, pulling herself up on the furniture, and bonking her head into everything. Her top teeth are starting to come in, forever banishing the wee toothless grin I love so much.
Pretty soon she’ll be walking and talking, and my days of going pee by myself will be over. As it is, I have to leave the door open while I pee and Jillian crawls in, pulls up to standing and starts scratching my kneecaps. Charming.
I’m planning her birthday party, which makes me happy but also makes me just a little bit sad. Every day that passes by, she becomes more and more of a kid and less and less of a baby. Someday, she might even grow hair.
*For that matter, how did I get to be 32? Wasn’t I just 17 the other day?