Today when I went to pick up Eliza at school, one of her classmates stopped right in the middle of taking a drink at the water fountain pointed to Anderson and loudly asked:
"How old is he?"
"Well, in a few weeks he is going to be one." I choked out with a smile.
"Is he zero?"
"No, not really. 11 months."
"Is he zero or one?"
After we went round and round I finally said:
"Yep, he's zero."
This is a tough concept to swallow when your last baby is about to turn one. I have tried to take in each month and enjoy (or wish away: screaming) certain milestones that I know will soon be a memory. I know he will grow to be a bigger, rougher, stinky, dirty, mouthy, fast moving, limit testing boy way too soon.
This last month before he turns the page into the world of "years", I am trying to eat up and capture the yummy baby treat that he is...
I love how he hangs on tight to things and does a squat.
Bare buns that beg to be pinched
Goofy glances at me.
Sitting in one place with our buddies.
Proud looks when he gets to try something new.
Do you understand why I call him "My Little Old Man."
Cautiously clinging on to the side of the crib
Sweet smiles and soft squeals.
Especially when he first sees me come home.
Did I already mention the cute buns? Well, check out the sweet little toes, chubby hands and soft skin. Don't you hate it when you splash so much you get water in your own face?
Yummy.
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