David will be a year old in two weeks.
I'm not sure my brain can comprehend this.
This time last year, I was dealing with false labor and anticipation. I was a mess, and absolutely sick to death of pregnancy. Today, I saw a tiny baby (she's about two months) and I wanted to cry because my tiny baby is getting so big! He pulls up, he attempts to climb (just poor at choosing things to climb on), he's thinking about standing and can do it for a moment.
I'm really proud of him. He's a beautiful honey blond. But I miss my teensy dark-haired doll who didn't want to be put down.