I'm not trying to brag, but ... yes ... that is our child, still laying in bed, after 8 AM.
Phew! This past week or so has been a doozy. I can hardly believe it's Friday already, but can't believe it's not Sunday yet. Yesterday, between buying Maile's big girl bed and making her last high chair conversion (into a regular ol' seat), I was in tears by the end of the day. Bittersweet tears. I felt guilty for getting impatient with Maile at IKEA, because she was about to fall asleep in my arms, but still insisted that I put more "foo 'nacks" (fruit snacks) in her pants pocket, which I was not about to do when she was just going to fall asleep! I was both incredibly proud and incredibly sad that our little girl isn't a baby anymore. That she is, in fact, a little girl. Taking initiative, and even trying her best to make her own decisions. By the time she fell asleep, it was all I could do to tear myself away from her side. But I did. And I looked at my little girl. My little girl who will soon be two years old. And I smiled. And I kissed her forehead. And I smelled her hair. And I said a silent prayer of thanks -- thanks that I'm her mama.