Something about that last bottle of formula I made, it makes me wonder where did this last year go? I feel like I just brought you home from the hospital. In the middle of a pandemic. We had no visitors like we did with your brothers. No cards, no flowers, just me, you, and daddy. Those 2.5 days flew, and we were on our way home.
Time moves a little faster with you.
You’re our last baby, and I am about to make the last bottle of formula for you, the last everything. It all hits me at once. This year was a crazy one for sure. Formula shortage, pandemic—it all made it scarier to also have a newborn. I had trouble breastfeeding your brothers, so I didn’t try with you. I knew everything was going to be a little different with you because you’re the last one.
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Time moves a little faster with you.
You’re turning one in just a few days, and I cannot believe that. Your brothers are so independent now, and you want to be just like them, and you’re rushing to catch up to them, but I’m just not ready.
Slow down, little man. Mommy isn’t ready.
Time moves a little faster with you.
You’re not walking yet, and you still let me rock you to sleep, which makes me feel like you’re still a baby. But I feel it when I rock you, you pull away just enough that I know it’s going to happen soon. And you keep trying to stand. You’re ready, I’m not.
Time moves a little faster with you.
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Your personality comes out more and more every day. You’re silly, you’re funny, you’re stubborn as can be, and as exciting as that all is, it also makes me sad.
Because . . .
Yep.
Time moves a little faster with you.
