Her face still has baby round cheeks that flush when she cries.
She still plays with my hair (or yours) when she’s tired, or needs comfort, and her best friend, her soother, who she affectionately calls “ME-ME” still accompanies her to bed and in the car… or anywhere she can get away with.
But as much as she is still our baby she is becoming a big girl and shows me how independent she is every day.
Her words are changing from “play with me,” to “let’s pretend,” bringing an imagination to play time that make so many giggles bubble over from her father and I.
She’s become the mimic in the backseat, the third voice, the “ear muffs please,” who listens intently to everything we say and is waiting for the worst time to repeat it.
This once tiny girl is growing fast and we are responsible for shaping her into a creative, independent woman – and I am having panic attacks at the magnitude of this job.
The thought that people take this lightly!
This is the biggest job I have ever had the pleasure, frustrations, and OMGWHATHAVEIGOTTENMYSELFINTO of doing.
But I’m going to do it right.
No half assing this.
We’re raising adults here people!
So let’s take our jobs seriously!