This past weekend, I changed out the peanut’s summer wardrobe for fall and winter. Every time I have to do this—there were big ‘out with the old, in with the new’ phases at 3 months, 6 months, last fall at one year and this past spring for the new season—I’ve relished the feeling of purging. Getting rid of stuff that doesn’t fit. Passing the clothes on to friends and family who have younger baby girls. Moving on. Sayonara!
But this past weekend was the first time it made me sad. Not only because I was saying goodbye to summer and all those adorable little outfits that the peanut will never get to wear again, but because she’s getting so big. She really is growing up. It’s so awesome on the one hand: she’s starting to string words into sentences, she’s got a great laugh, she loves being with other little people—she’s a lover overall, and it’s all so gratifying to witness.
But she’ll never be this little again. Every day forward is another day that's history. We are so lucky and I’m still looking to so much in our future, but that wistfulness of her growing up is definitely creeping in. Mwah.
