Yesterday Sam turned three years old. I’ve been thinking all week about writing this post. Usually I have lots to say when my kids turn a year older, because something significant has happened, or they’ve just turned into the devil’s spawn. Or something. But I have nothing, and I don’t think it’s because Sam in un-interesting. He’s just been same ol’ same ol’. So like, I have nothing new to bitch about.
So this officially happened today. My teensy weensy little peanut turned one. Cliché cliché cliché when did she get so big where did the time go etc etc etc but really honestly you guys, WHEN DID SHE GET SO BIG? And where did the time go??
Guess who’s nine months old today? ARGHHHHHH. Impossible! I was meant to start back at work today. I’d only intended to take nine months off but I’ve extended it one more month because you guys… look at her face! How can I not want to spend every day (albeit unpaid, I’m broke, I eat plain Cruskits for lunch kind of days) of my life with her? I posted on Instagram a little while ago about how much I’m enjoying my days with her. Well, let me just soak her up for another month before real life (yuck, real life) begins again.
A couple of weeks ago, this critter turned 2.5. What a ride it’s been – highs, lows, low lows, medium highs, super lows. I’ve had enough experience now to confidently say that every low does pass, and what comes after is usually a spectacularly bright silver lining.
There’s this two year old who lives in my house. I’m not going to name names but if you’re real sleuthy, you might figure out who I’m talking about. But anyway, this two year old is driving me absolutely insane.
No it hasn’t been six months. It can’t have been six months yet! Can it? REALLY?!
God, time is flying.
My peanut is no longer a peanut, she’s six months old today and turning into her own little person. She has a personality, she has likes and dislikes, she communicates (in her own way). She’s really turning out to be a mini me – happy, energetic, outgoing and stubborn as shit.