Maybe it's because he'll be two in just over a month. Maybe it's because he's beginning to use words like cartoon and potty. Or maybe it's because I'm fastly approaching the big 3-0 and the last three decades are flashing before my eyes.
But I'm having a moment.
A very tender WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BABY BOY moment.
So I have been spending night after night opening iPhoto and clicking through pictures. And clicking and clicking and choking up and clicking and tearing up and clicking and weeping all over my keyboard.
I hate that it's so flippin' cliche, but seriously, they grow up darn fast. If two years can fly by just like that then multiply that amount of time by eight and my baby is DRIVING. Don't tell me I'm overreacting. That's not helping me calm down.
Fine. Be that way.
Here. Here is my baby when he fit into outfits that covered him head-to-toe and were made of only one piece of fabric. Crap, now he picks out his own clothes (breathe, Ali, breathe).
And don't even get me started on my daughter. You might have to commit me.