This was an exciting week.
On Tuesday, my husband finished his very last day of his fellowship. It was a tough year, but he made it, he graduated with high praise and is now on real, actual vacation for the first time in a long time. He has no work waiting, no patients he might get called on. He’s off until the 16th, at which point he begins his career.
I’ve been with my husband for almost 11 years now. He has been working towards this for 10 of those years and it’s finally here. He has put in countless days, nights, weekends, holidays for this. He has given up time with me, time with our boys. He has worked spectacularly hard to become a more patient coworker, a better communicator and ultimately a very, very good physician. He barely resembles the man who started medical school, or the man who began residency. He is well liked by his coworkers and despite a few hiccups early in his residency, the hospital he was trained at all but begged him to come back. And so that’s where he’ll be returning to.
And for the first time in years, he’s excited about work. He’s finally where he’s dreamed of being. It’s amazing. I’ve seen his mood elevate almost visibly since Tuesday. It’s really good to have him back.
I seriously could not be more proud of him. This has been a very, very long journey, and not an easy one, but he persevered and succeeded.
In addition to that major change, today was also Eli’s last day at his current preschool. We were largely very happy there (with a few mild complaints), but since we moved, my commute has been horrendous. I’ve driven 45 minutes to Eli’s preschool, which is 15 minutes past my work, then looped back to Will’s daycare, then went even further backwards to my work. And in the afternoon, I’ve done the same. It results in roughly 3 hours a day in the car and it sucks.
The new preschool is literally 2 minutes from our house. It happens to be a Jewish preschool, which is something we’re really excited about, but it’s also a wonderful environment. The director and teachers have been kind and compassionate every time we’ve visited and Eli seems excited (they have a turtle there, that’s all he needs). He obviously doesn’t fully understand and I totally expect this transition to be a heaping pile of suck, but I think in the long run that it’s going to be a really, really good change for him. And I’m really excited not to have to put him in the car for so long each day. For now, Will is staying where he is, but that may change soon, too.
The last major change is that we are taking away Eli’s pups (pacifiers) sometime in the next week or so. My plan was to not bring them on vacation with us (by the way, we are going on vacation soon! It’s going to be magnificent!) and just tell them that we’ve forgotten them, but we might also wait until we get home and do something different just so it doesn’t ruin his trip (we’re staying in a beach house, so tears at bedtime won’t be a huge deal). I haven’t decided. We have to get rid of them before he has his tooth pulled because he can’t suck on anything for a few days after or he’ll cause bleeding issues. So, at least I have the push I need. I hate doing this, he loves them so much, but I’ve waited as long as I can and I know this is best for him in the long run.
I think part (okay, most) of why I’m waiting is because I’m just not ready for him to be so grown. My sweet baby is just this big kid now.
So that’s where we are. It’s transition time for our family. Most of these changes are good, some of them are tough, but all of them are taking us into our future.
We’ve been in the tunnel for a long time and it’s really magnificent to finally step out into the light.
A year and a few weeks ago, Eli fell face first onto the sidewalk at our old apartment. The impact pushed one of his front teeth backwards into his mouth, but we saw a dentist who said that it seemed like it would be fine. And for a while it was. We switched to a new dentist shortly thereafter and he told us that it was kind of a crapshoot. A fall like that could do no long term damage, or it could kill the root. There was no way for us to know but to wait and see.
I noticed about 6 months later that the tooth was darker than the one next to it, but not severely so, which was somewhat comforting. We had a dental exam in early May and while the discoloration was noted, the tooth wasn’t loose and everything looked okay. He didn’t even think that x-rays were necessary and said that it may actually return to it’s normal color.
Two weeks later, Eli fell face first out of his bed onto our gorgeous but very firm hardwood floor. I didn’t notice any damage to his teeth, but he absolutely mangled his lip tie and gave himself a bloody nose. A week later, we got a note at school that he fell and hit his mouth. Last week I noticed that his tooth seemed to have a(nother) chip in it. And about 2 days ago, I realized that it looked pushed back in his mouth again. I asked Eli if he’d hit his mouth and he denied it happening, but something didn’t look right.
So we went to the dentist today.
I have to say, I adore our dentist. He’s really a very odd guy and conversing with him is inevitably awkward and uncomfortable, but he is INCREDIBLE with kids. He did Eli’s first dental exam laying on an ottoman in his office because Eli was afraid of the big chair. His 2nd and 3rd exams he did with Eli sitting on a stuffed horse. Today his office staff was so incredibly patient while we helped Eli understand what he needed to do for an x-ray of his teeth, even though it was taking forever. It wasn’t easy, but they were so kind to him and to me and we got it done without a single tear.
From Eli anyway.
Because the x-ray showed that he has an abscess on the upper third of the root of his tooth. It’s from the repeated falls. The dentist said that because Eli’s teeth are spaced so far apart, every time he’s fallen on his face, that tooth has taken the brunt of the damage. If his teeth were closer together, it might not have happened. But here we are. And now the tooth has to go.
I have a lot of feelings about this. First and foremost, I’m worried about the procedure and how tough it’ll be for Eli. He’s a fearful kid, so to have someone poking around in his mouth, like with a needle, is a pretty big thing (he’ll just be getting local anesthetic). It’s not going to be easy or pleasant, and even our optimistic, incredible dentist told me that. The extraction itself will take under a minute, it’s the numbing that’s going to be ugly.
My second feeling is probably a stupid one. I’m sad. I adore his little gap and chipped tooth smile. It’s just…so him. It’s the face I’ve known since his first day on this earth. I watched those teeth break through and now we have to tug it out. And he’ll have a huge gap in his mouth for at least 3 years, which is such a long time.
I’m afraid of how it’ll impact his speech, his confidence, his eating. I’m afraid he’s going to damage the other front tooth and we’ll have to have it removed as well. I’m afraid other kids will point it out or pick on him.
Please don’t get me wrong, I know that in the grand scheme, this is a blip. Most likely it will be one lousy morning and then Eli will adjust and it’ll be a story we tell someday when he’s dating girls just to embarrass him. But right now that tiny tooth has totally broken my heart. We have a little time (the appointment isn’t until August 6th, but we’re on a cancellation list, so it may be sooner), but I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough time with his smile, just as it is right now. I know that this is the right thing to do, but that doesn’t mean I want to do it.
In the meantime, what’s the going rate for the tooth fairy? He’s 3 and it’s going to suck a lot for him, so I’m thinking a pony? Yes?
Poor bubby Will was not feeling well today and you can totally see it in the picture. It took mom, dad and Eli to get him to offer up even a partial smile. And of course he didn’t sit up so you can’t really tell how much he’s grown this month, but we’ll take it.
Today you are 10 months old. It’s hard to believe how close you are to being one, because it seems like you were just born. I feel like I blinked and you went from 7 to 10 months instantly. You went from an infant to an almost toddler. From a tiny baby to a person.
You are an extremely busy crawler this month. Please note that I did not say efficient because son, you are the goofiest crawler ever. I have seen a lot of babies crawl in a lot of interesting ways, but you are one of the strangest. You just…well, you do the worm. You do it quickly and you can travel long distances, but it looks so miserably uncomfortable and everyone thinks you’re going to bash your face into the floor (which, thankfully you don’t). You go through multiple changes of clothes each day because no matter how often I clean the floors, you always find all the dirt I miss. But, more than anything, crawling and mobility in general has made you incredibly happy.
Your daycare teacher mentioned it this week- you’re a whole new baby this month. And she’s right. You are pulling to stand and cruising and you’re just delighted at your newfound independence. You will happily play on the floor for up to 30 minutes at a time, crawling from one toy to the next, banging everything on the floor, squealing and squeaking until you find the next noisemaker. You want to get down and play all the time, though from time to time, you check in for snuggles before getting back at it.
You had another bout of pneumonia this month. It was as bad as last time except now you know what breathing treatments are and you know how to fight them. You also got a diagnosis of intermittent asthma, so I imagine this won’t be our last pneumonia experience, sadly. You bounced back well and transitioned back to daycare without hesitation this time, which was a relief. Your personality, while a little quieter when you were sick, hasn’t been dulled at all by illness.
You’re getting pretty delightfully personable these days. You clap and clap and clap and sometimes even say “aaaaaaaaaaaay!” while you do it. You also say “eye!” and wave. I can’t decide if these are technically first words (yay and hi) or if you just somehow learned to correlate these motions and sounds. Either way, both are adorable. If anyone praises anyone for anything, you applaud. You’re like our little tiny cheerleader.
And speaking of tiny, you continue to struggle to gain weight. I weighed you just this evening and you’re still hanging in there at 16.5 pounds. It’s kind of nice because you’re getting to wear all your clothes, but at the same time, at some point, we’d like to see you get a little heavier. It’s not for a lack of eating- you’re all about table foods and coconut milk yogurt and anything you can steal from your brother and me. Hopefully as you get a little more efficient with crawling, you’ll save some of those calories for growing.
Your likes this month include: mom, dad, Eli, Corduroy bear, Addie, Aunt Claire, Ms Lynn (your music teacher), toy trains and cars, the mini piano, Jacques-Imo, Elmo, rice, coconut cream yogurt, puffs, any of your brother’s toys you can steal.
Your dislikes this month include: not eating when everyone else is, being put down in bed when you’d rather not sleep, being in the car when you’re not tired, teething.
This month you really became attached to your dad. It’s not that you didn’t love him before, it’s that for several months now, you’ve been a mama’s boy. People would talk to you and you’d nuzzle into my chest. But now, if you see dad, you must be with him. You squeal when he walks in and rapid worm crawl to him. You will throw yourself out of my arms for him and crawl all over him when you can. It’s wonderful to watch, especially since he’s felt really guilty about not being home enough. You’ve clearly bonded to him just fine.
You and Eli have also become really adorably close this month. Eli really, really likes to make you laugh and I cannot tell you how it makes my heart swell to watch the two of you. He will do something over and over again if it gets a laugh from you. And you adore him. You follow him around, you want to play with all his toys and be as close to him as possible. The two of you take baths together every night and it’s just my favorite time of day. This is why we wanted to have more than one child. The love that the two of you are just beginning to share, that you have a lifetime left to give to the other, is more than I could’ve ever imagined.
You are such a bright light in all our lives, I can’t overstate that. You were born into a year of chaos for us, and in some ways, you’ve been our anchor. You pull us home, you pull us back together. It’s a big job for someone so small, but you don’t seem to mind. You have not had an easy road these past 10 months, but you continue to be a happy, happy baby.
I hope that you know how very much we love you, how lucky we feel to have you and how much we look forward to everything left to come. Happy 10 months, my sweet baby boy.
A few years ago on our anniversary (back in the day before we had kids and I actually wrote things not a day late), I wrote about our year together. It was a tough year because my health was not great. I had been fighting with chronic headaches, gone through multiple procedures, taken leaves of absences from school and life was just hard. I remember really feeling like the song “One” was a prefect explanation of our lives.
One blood, one life
You got to do what you should
One life with each other…
But we’re not the same
We get to carry each other
Carry each other
A few years ago, you carried me. And this year it has been my turn.
It wasn’t a bad year, but it was a hard year, especially for you. You accepted a fellowship and thought it was going to change your life, and unfortunately it did, just not the way you imagined. I watched in horror as this job has torn you down every day. I’ve watched it break your spirit. I’ve watched it pull happiness out of you more and more each day. You went from a person who woke up in the morning singing, to one who had panic attacks and dreaded going to bed each night because you had to get up in the morning. It has pained me beyond words to not be able to fix this for you.
More times than I can count, I’ve seen you plaster a smile on your face for our boys even when I know that all you want to do is cry, scream and sleep. I’ve watched you refuse to fail in a job that is set up to make you do just that, I’ve seen you take on responsibility that was far beyond what should’ve been expected of you. I’ve watched you succeed when you shouldn’t have, when I think that some didn’t want you to. I’ve watched you grow by leagues and I am unbelievably proud of you. You are not the same person you were last year. We are not the same couple we were last year, but we survived.
You have apologized a lot for a lot of things in the past year. Mostly for not being enough of a lot of things. Not being a good enough husband, not being home enough, not being a good enough dad, etc. But the truth is, I have not, for a moment, been let down. I never needed your apologies.
This is real life and this is real marriage. 7 years ago, I stood before you and our families and promised to love you in good times and in bad and I meant it. I will never forget the words that we spoke to one another because they perfectly encapsulated how I felt and feel about you. “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” You. You are my person, even when you are broken down, frustrated, exhausted, you are my beloved. And I am yours.
It has not been an easy year for you or for us. But we survived it. You are 21 days from finishing this fellowship, from reaching the end of a very long road.
It has been one of the greatest gifts and an incredible privilege to be your wife this year, to get to carry you. Elijah and William and I are the most fortunate people on this earth to get to love you, to be loved by you.
I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine. Always. Forever.
About a month before Eli’s birthday, I sat down and tried to plan his party. Unlike previous years, we were going to be in my hometown for his birthday, so we decided just to have his party there. We briefly considered also doing a party for his preschool friends, but ultimately decided that since we’re moving him to a new preschool soon anyway, that we’d do that next year instead. I narrowed the themes down to an ocean theme and a dinosaur theme and asked Eli. Without hesitation, he said dinosaur. And when we started talking about it he became very insistent that the cake had to be an orange dinosaur. It was adorable, but definitely a challenge.
I am not a crafty person. At all. So I ordered most of the decorations on Amazon and got matching plates. I also picked up a set of inflatable dinosaurs that I knew E would get a kick out of.
The food was easy to plan, especially with a little help of pinterest. We had burgers, hot dogs (for the carnivores), veggies and fruit (for the herbivores) and baked beans (for the omnivores). And of course dinosaur bones and claws for appetizers.
Because the party had kids of an assortment of ages, I was trying to be somewhat creative in keeping people interested. Again, the internet to the rescue. The night before I made a paste out of baking soda, water, and food coloring and shaped it into an egg shape around some small plastic dinosaurs, then left them out to dry out (interestingly, they were really green the night before, by morning they were purple. I’m sure there’s a reason, but I don’t know it). The day of the party, we hid them for the kids to find. Once they found them all, we took a spray bottle of white vinegar and sprayed them. The eggs bubbled and dissolved, leaving behind the dinosaurs.
At one point, we had kids ranging in age from 13 to 2 enraptured and Eli was squealing, “THEY’RE HATCHING! THEY’RE HATCHING!” It was so, so fun. And they got to keep the dinosaurs afterwards.
We also did a piñata this year. I didn’t realize it when I bought it, but it was a pull string piñata, which was a good thing because we let all the kids beat the hell out of it and it would. not. break. Eventually the pull strings worked and candy and toys fell for all. Eli grabbed one lollipop and screamed excitedly about it while the older kids hoarded as much as they could. It was hilarious. Eli was standing before a huge pile of candy and toys, holding up one single dum dum sucker, infinitely more excited than the other kids with full bags of junk. Three is really a great age.
After the piñata, we did cake and ice cream. The cake was a labor of love. I did a practice cake the week before following the instructions here, and the head would not stay on, even with copious toothpick usage. So for the real deal I used a cupcake for the head and it worked fabulously. And the spikes were fondant covered oreos. I was starting to doubt that it was worth the time until Eli saw the cake and his excitement made it totally worth it. It was delicious, too.
Eli has been excited about the candles for weeks and weeks, and his reaction to the cake/singing was priceless.
All in all, this was my favorite of his birthday parties to date. It was only possible thanks to a ton of help from my mom, fabulous barbecuing by my step-dad and great company from the rest of my family. Eli had a great time and felt so special, which was my only goal. I really couldn’t have asked for anything more.
And now onto Will’s birthday planning. These kids are growing up too fast.
Yesterday we lost our cat, Karma.
I shouldn’t say lost, I know where she is. I was there when she left. I saw the vet stroke her head as he injected the pink medication that stopped her heart. I kissed her head as she took her last breath. It was the right decision for her. She was suffering and now she is not, but still my heart aches for her.
Karma was the first animal that was really mine. I had just graduated from college and was living on my own for the first time. My boyfriend (now husband) had just moved to New Orleans and then evacuated for a hurricane and was home when I decided it was time. I needed a companion to make my tiny one bedroom apartment feel less empty.
I had my heart set on an orange cat, so when my boyfriend called me over and said, “she’s not orange, but…” I had low expectations. But there in that cage was the tiniest kitten I had ever seen. She had the pointiest tale and the sweetest eyes. And that was my cat. My girl. My Karma. She was 1.25 pounds of sass.
She moved with me to New Orleans. She traveled to Nashville with us when we evacuated for a hurricane. She came back to California with us. She sat on my lap in the wee hours of the morning while I was up feeding both my babies. This past week, while Will was recovering from pneumonia, despite being sick herself, she slept on the couch with Will and me every night, quietly purring and watching us.
She was not a nice cat. I don’t want to sugarcoat this or remember her as anything other than what she was because that’s not fair. She was picky and grouchy and would bite the ever living crap out of you if she didn’t like what was happening. She even had resting bitch face on her last day. She liked to be pet (petted? I don’t really care) on her own terms, in very specific locations, for very short durations. She preferred to be held the weirdest fashion, pannus splayed out for all to see. She was enormous with the tiniest head and paws, and no diet would ever seem to help. She was unapologetically lazy. Also my spirit animal.
She adored my husband. She was supposed to be my cat, but he was her person. He could do no wrong for Karma. On the night before we put her down, we snuggled her for hours before we went to bed. Whenever my husband dared to stop petting her, she would immediately cease purring (even if I was still petting her) and turn her head toward him, as if to say, uh, no. You are not finished. He held her all the way to the vet yesterday and in the waiting room while we waited to be seen.
When she became sick last week, Eli took a major interest in Karma. It was pretty much the first time she was ever present and stationary enough for him to touch her. Today he asked where she was and it was one of the toughest parenting moments I’ve had to date. I know he doesn’t understand, but we tried to keep it simple, not correlate sickness or old age with death, and remind him that we loved her very much.
Because we did. She was grouchy and could bite harder than any creature on earth, but she was my cat. It probably seems silly to essentially eulogize my cat, but the heartache I’m feeling right now is tremendous. She had a good life. She was loved. It may not mean much now, but I really hope it meant the world to her.
Turns out this blog works for things other than monthly letters to my kids?
I’m somewhat kidding, but also, we are still slowly emerging after our latest move. Last move. For a long time. It was going to be that way anyway, but after how entirely hilariously terrible this move went, I can promise that we won’t be moving again anytime soon.
The plan was to hire a moving company to both pack and move us since my husband’s work gave us a generous moving allowance. We did have to rent a moving van to pick up a washer and dryer my in-laws were giving us, but that would be covered as well. The packers were scheduled to come on a Friday, the moving van was to be picked up and loaded on a Saturday and then the movers were coming on a Sunday. We knew Sunday night would be crazy, but the movers assured us they would have us unloaded in our new house by early afternoon, 4 at the latest.
So, the packers came. It was chaos. They were fine, they did their jobs, but containing two boys, one of who was newly mobile, in a tiny living room, while all their possessions were being packed was a nightmare. I had to be on site for the packing, so it wasn’t like I could take them to a park or anything. It took a solid 4 hours and they still hadn’t managed to get everything, but they declared themselves done and that was it.
Friday night, Will spiked a 101 degree fever at 2am. At 2:15am I got a text from my husband, who was still at work, that his car wouldn’t start. I probably should’ve seen the writing on the wall, but no. My husband got a new battery from AAA and got home around 4am.
The next day he picked up a moving van and we went to pick out a refrigerator. I’ll spare you the details, but the most important part was that I had the sales lady measure the fridge to be sure it would fit in the spot and with 1/2 inch clearance, it did. We got a great deal, it was awesome. My husband got it loaded into the moving van and headed to pick up a dryer we had purchased. While his parents were giving us a set, our landlord told us that we had to have an electric dryer, so we found on one Craig’s List. At this point, my husband was ready to head to his parents house and…the moving van wouldn’t start.
Again, probably should’ve seen where things were going, but alas. The moving van company came out and fixed the van and things were back on track, just a little later than planned.
It took my poor husband literally all day to do all the van loading and driving (in the rain) and he arrived home after the kids’ bedtimes and fell into bed, exhausted. The next day we signed the lease on our fabulous new house at 9am and then unloaded the moving van and came across problem number 3 of 8584983093. The fridge, which he and I got out of the moving van (that didn’t have a ramp, because obvs), wouldn’t fit through any of our kitchen doors. We were going to remove the fridge doors, when, on a whim, I remeasured it. And the fridge was a half an inch wider than was quoted to us. Even if we found a way to get it into our kitchen, it wasn’t going to fit in the spot it was meant to go in. So.
At this point, my husband headed back to be there with the movers while they loaded the moving van. I went and bought a mini fridge to help us bridge the gap between then and when we could pick out a new fridge (spoiler alert: that mini fridge didn’t work. I mean. I returned the first one and bought a different one…that didn’t fit in my car. I think we really weren’t meant to have cold food.)
So the movers loaded. And loaded and loaded our stuff. My husband furiously packed all the stuff the packers had missed and helped the movers. At 4pm, they closed the moving van and told my husband that they needed to talk. Apparently, they didn’t realize how much stuff we had (even though they came out and looked at all our stuff) and how far they’d have to walk (even though the head mover guy did the walk himself) and oops, they were going to have to increase the maximum price they quoted us.
My husband argued with them for a while and eventually agreed to pay more just to get things going again. He threatened to blast them on the internet and magically he got a call 5 minutes later saying they’d honor the original price. We assumed this was the end of our woes.
At 6pm, they finished loading the van, locked it up and told us that because they were already in “overtime” they couldn’t start unloading the van. They would drive their truck back to their warehouse and try again the next day.
Ha. Ha ha. I mean.
So that night, we moved into our new house. I slept on my sister’s air mattress with Will, Eli slept in Will’s pack n play (he was so pissed. “This is WILLIAM’S bed.”) and my husband slept on the hardwood floor wrapped up in a comforter. We both had to work the next day and I had to leave early to meet the movers so they could unpack before it was the end of their (ridiculously short) work day.
In the end, all our stuff got here, none of it was broken and we have enough room for all of it. I am still amused (arguably more so, time seems to have softened the rage) that we’ve moved 8 times in 11 years and the only time we’ve used professional movers was by far the worst move to date. And that includes the one where I backed my (then future) mother-in-law’s car into a yellow pole.
But, it was also the best move.
We have a back yard.
Everyone has a bedroom.
I have a kitchen that fits all my stuff.
It’s just this perfect house. It’s our home.
We’ve reached the mobile baby attempts nose dives off the chair age. It took 3 of us to get the picture this time and thankfully he was in good spirits at the time so we didn’t have to try too many times. Safety awareness is clearly not a 9 month skill.
Today you are 9 months old! Three-quarters of the way to a year! It’s just mind boggling how quickly this year has gone.
Your grand accomplishment this month is independent mobility! Note that I did not say crawling because I don’t think we can really call this crawling. You get up on your hands and knees and then you inch worm wherever you want to go. You have gotten pretty efficient and can get all over the house that way, but it looks like you’re going to bang your face on the floor a thousand times and also it makes my stomach hurt watching you, but you are so pleased with yourself.
You’ve also become quite an adventurous eater this month. You love scrambled eggs, puffs, and tiny pieces of fruit and veggies. You are picky about purees and only want big flavors like mango and blueberries and other such things. We seem to have a good idea of what is upsetting your stomach these days, so things have generally been better in terms of gastroenterology.
You are quite a chatterbox with your babbling too. You have ma ma, da da, na na, and a few others, in addition to various clicks and coos. You also have a fake laugh that you use to get attention and it’s pretty adorable.
After a lot of deliberation and a lot of sleepless nights, we decided to sleep train you this month. I cannot begin to tell you how hard it was for me to listen to you cry. I taught you, for almost 9 months, that if you cried I would respond and then I didn’t and ugh, it was awful. But you caught on quickly and you only cry for a few seconds at most at bedtime and a few minutes at naps. I am very hopeful that you’ll learn to love sleep and will go to it without crying soon, but mostly I’m just glad that both of us are getting a lot more good quality sleep.
Your likes this month include: mom, dad, Eli, grandparents, Aunt Claire, Addie, puffs, eggs, your little Corduroy, trains (which are your brothers), “crawling”, pulling to stand, eating and being snuggled.
Your dislikes this month include: carrots, being put in bed awake, being tired, having your brother’s toys taken away from you, when mom walks away, when dad won’t pick you up.
After a few rough months, your bright personality has re-emerged. You are quick to smile, you adore your dad and you laugh and giggle for other people. You still prefer for your dad or me to hold you, but you’re getting better. I think I didn’t realize how tough the various illnesses and stomach issues had been until we got past them. You are so happy these days and it has been a delight to be around you.
You are suddenly achieving all these milestones and I am so not ready. I’m not ready for you to stand and walk. I’m not ready for you to speak and have opinions. This is my very favorite baby age and I just want to stop time right now and enjoy you. I want to soak up every second. I want to see your sweet little two-tooth smile all day, every day. I know that you will be a fun toddler and a fun kid, but oh, I just adore you right now, just as you are. And it is just going so fast.
Month 9 was one of the best yet and we are just so excited to see the person you are becoming. Happy 9 months, Will. We love you and can’t wait to see what next month brings.