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He's walking....almost.
He's talking....almost.
He's off the bottle....almost.
He's ready to quit the fomula....almost.
He's a toddler....almost.
There's just something about that magical first birthday where babydom (don't think that's really a word, but we're going with it) is forever gone and toddlerhood is just around the corner. Every day that comes could be the day that first solo step is taken, that he looks you in the face and says "Mama," or maybe it will be the day that he stabs a hunk of food with his little teeny fork.
We're on the brink here. Part of me is panicking and part of me wants to get another baby going into the rotation.
For now, let's just be satisfied to say....
Happy Birthday Micah!
(But this year, can I please be sleeping at 11:54 pm instead? Thanks so much.)
