So I've come to realize something. Your kids get older and there's nothing you can do about it. It's true. It's sad. I hate it. Someone slap me. Okay, so the one who made me a mom, the one who stole my heart when she looked into my tear-filled, swollen, dark circled eyes on June 14th, 2001 is about to turn 8. Yep, I said it. 8! Eight years is a long time. In that amount of time, you could get 2 or 3 college degrees, two Presidents could have served terms, or a welfare-dependent mentally unstable single mother in California could have given birth to 14 children. It really is a long time. And it makes me sad. The little girl who used to hold my hand to walk down the sidewalk, who used to call M&M's "MMs", who used to fall asleep in my arms every night, is going to be eight years old. That's 8 in kid years! Third grade. Boys. Homework. Sports. Prom. Driving. College. Marriage. That's what my future holds with the one who made me a momma. Where are the days when she would want me to kiss her boo-boos? Where are the days when she would tug on the bottom of my shirts (which used to really stretch them out and annoy me)? Where are the days when she needed me to lift her up onto the potty? Where I ask? LONG GONE. She's big now. She's getting older and she's insisting on things like privacy and iPods and posters for her walls. That's my new reality.
What happened to my sweet baby girl?
She looks like this now.
This is her more girly side (rarely seen however)
This is my new reality. She's getting older and I'm going to need therapy.
Oh the drama!
Very cute, I am already thinking about those days holding my 2 week old. I love the background, may have to steal it. Welcome fellow blogger!
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