Something about the first birthday just hurts. It hurts really bad. I have spent a good deal of this first year with a not so good sleeper telling myself rough patches are only a phase, and that one day I will sleep again. But sometimes I reflect and wish I had just enjoyed those sleepless nights more (of course I still have time with this one...) of course that is MUCH easier said than done. I can't wait to see all of the things my baby boy learns in the months to come, but I kind of want to lock us in a room together and cuddle and giggle and watch him sleep while breathing in his sweet baby smell. I think babies take 18 years to reach adulthood because we literally would not be able to survive if their independence wasn't gradual and if it happened all at once. I have also come to realize that he will forever be my baby. Always. I will hold him when he cries and laugh at his jokes and make him his favorite foods forever, just so I can see his perfect smile as the result of something I did for him.
So having an almost toddler. I'm doing it. Whether I like it or not, my baby is growing up, but I would be lying if I said I wasn't sad about it. Yesterday we were out to lunch and he met another little baby girl. And as adorable as it was, I died a little inside knowing one day he will walk away from me and to another. For now though, this baby boy is mine and I'm loving every second of his almost toddler life.
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