...isn't a baby anymore.
She's a full fledged toddler.
She will be 18 months this month.
Yesterday I went to pull her out of her crib after nap and, I don't know why, but when I lifted her my arms were prepped for baby weight, but it was a toddler in my arms instead.
And with sadness I realized that I really don't have a baby in the house anymore.
She's getting so big. She runs EVERYWHERE. She says "yes, no, hi, night-night, mama" and "YAY!" She is starting to throw tantrums when she doesn't get what she wants. She communicates her wants and needs super effectively. She always wants to be with her siblings, because they are probably doing something fun and she recognizes that. Daddy and Grammy are the end all be all people and she lights up and squeals when she sees them.
I had a little chat with her about staying small but I don't think she cared. Why would she? None of the other kids ever did and big is fun. Little is so...babyish, which may be what I want, but will be something that she, the youngest of 4, will spend her childhood trying hard not to be.
And so with a great sigh I accept that I have run out of babies. I think I will always miss having one.
Bring it on. You know you want to comment that it must be time for one more.
And you'd be wrong. ;)
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Awww. She *has* to be a baby still because I'm demanding that Wes is still a baby, and he's turning 2 in a couple of weeks! I will refer to him as the baby until he can utter the complete sentence, "I am not a baby Mommy!"
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