A Year and a Half

When the children of some of my mom friends turned 18 months old, I always thought, "aww, they grow so fast!"

Because let's face it. Kids do.

Too fast, actually.

And I always thought 18 months was a big number. It's so, toddler-like? And less, baby-like, I guess?

But when my friends would say, "yes, so-and-so is 18 months now!", I'd secretly be happy M was still a baby.

Or at least I told myself she was.

Then this past Saturday rolled around and M turned 18 months old.

And it dawned on me that M is now closer to being 2 years old than she is to being a year old.

Speaking of one year, wasn't her You Are My Sunshine birthday themed party just last week?

We spent Saturday indoors because, well, it was pouring rain all day outside and our plans of going to the aquarium fell through because yours truly is sick and I didn't have it in me to wall around for 6 hours straight.

I'm having a sort of hard time with M growing up so fast.

She's a toddler. A sweet, innocent, beautiful, wonderfully inquisitive 18 month old.

She's a kid.

She scraped her knee last week at the park. She didn't even blink when it happened. I wanted to run to her aide, but she got right up and kept on playing, as her Dad and I have taught her.

M says a few new words every day. Less complaining, more usage of words. Like a big kid.

M moved up to the next age group in her class at her gym. She's with kids that are 2.5.

Hold me.

My Mommy heart is so proud of my sweet girl. She's the most empathetic, best toy sharing, kindhearted, cuddly kid I've ever met. She just loves and loves and loves.

But my Mommy heart is hopeful too. That I continue to mold her into the young lady G-d wants her to be. That she stays, always and forever, the sweet, generous and loving person she is at 18 months old.

M is a great teacher for me.

Because I already know, I have a lot to learn from her.

Happy 18 months to the reason I live. I love you, Princess.