My baby is going to be a year old in five days.
A year ago I was so nervous, excited, and scared all at the same time.
I was officially on maternity leave.
I was spending my days walking to try and get labor going.
For the last couple of days, I've been tearing up at the drop of a hat.
Like when I realize how big he is.
And how much he's learned.
And how much he's capable of doing on his own.
Or when we sit and read books about little boys growing up.
I am really grateful that I have made a serious effort to enjoy him being little, so I don't have any regrets about him growing up.