We finally get new pictures on our walls! Not that I’m not completely infatuated with the chunky, bald eight-month-old that stares at me from our fireplace mantle, but I just don’t know who that baby is anymore. I can tell you that she is definitely not the rambunctious two-year-old I have running around, dumping toys, and screaming “DANCE PARTY MAMA” every morning at 7AM (although I’m infatuated with that little girl, too). Even our sweet, equally energetic five-year-old looks so much younger when comparing last year’s photos to these- albeit much less drastic, but the little hints of boyhood come through more each year, and it gets harder and harder to remember he was a toddler a few short years ago.
It begins. I can hear my two year old screaming down the hall for me. Good thing we bought her that alarm clock that turns green at 6:45 a.m. to tell her it’s okay to wake up. I mean, she does stay in bed (so mission technically accomplished), but only so she can scream “Mommmm, it’s not green yet!” repeatedly for 15 minutes until it is, in fact, green. My five year old remains completely asleep and unphased by her screaming. God bless that boy. Let’s start the day.