Our baby is getting to be an old lady. Willa turned 9 months on Saturday. I think any time she hits a clothes size milestone, I take it harder. Though she's been out of most 9 month old clothing for a while...
I sat on the floor in her room putting pairs of white socks that are now too small for her feet in a Rubbermaid container. I didn't think I was too bothered by this. Babies grow, and as she gets older our relationship with her is more rewarding. No big deal... Except, that night as he was falling asleep, I made Jim brainstorm baby names. For our next baby, who could be a boy, and so we should really think of and agree on boy names because the one we had picked is now wayyy too popular. Our son can't be one of many Lucas' in a room, and is that even the right way to note more than one Lucas? Our son... who isn't even conceived yet - oops, everyone calm down. I'm not pregnant, I'm just crazy.
I'm going to blame hormones. Ancient 9 month breastfeeding hormones and "that time" hormones. We're not ready for #2 yet, and #1 is keeping us plenty busy and tired and happy and fulfilled.
Besides, if we have a son, we'll have a lot of cute girl clothes going to waste in a bunch of Rubbermaid containers.
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