getting layla zipped up in these pj's is like stuffing a sausage. i die laughing every time i am vacuum sealing her in them. but i refuse to retire them because they aren't technically too small for her length-wise. and because, hello? the chunky little butterbuns looks flipping adorable in them.
8/30/11: being escorted onto the dance floor by her father.
monday morning layla took 4 real steps. i dont even know what to do with that. we havent caught her on camera showing off her burgeoning walking skills yet, but that's okay because i am still in denial. i was in such disbelief at how big and old she is that i went back and looked through all of her hospital pics to make sure that she ever actually was my teeny little baby girl.
big mistake. now i'm a nostalgic mess.
11/14/10: having just been escorted in to the world by my uterus.
sharsh, it goes by so fast! every day she gets harder, faster, farther. my squishy little baby doll who could just lay on me all day is gone. i keep flexing my "remember this" muscles and trying, trying to be present because i will want it back so so badly one day. i know because i already feel that way about my pregnancies. i also know that because it seems like EVERY parent of older children tells me so:"they grow up in a blink," "i would give anything to have them little again," "it's hard, but it's the best time of your life," "ENJOY it. you'll never get these years back." "the days are long, but the years are short."
oh, i believe you, i believe you, people! thus, defying sleep training protocol and having a 10pm playdate and snuggle session; thus pulling the car over when she turns around to smile at me so i can smile back and soak it in like vitamin D; thus baby pj's that barely zip over that belly that i refuse to admit she has grown out of. if only i could ensure she never grows too big for me. where is the zipper for that?
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