Outfit details: hair bow, romper, elephant (gift)
You’ve seen this romper before. But this face — man, it’s changed.
I went to her closet to pick out her outfit today and saw this romper hanging there. Just for fun, I thought I’d see if it still fits. And it does(ish).
This matters to me because bebe has changed so much since she last wore it. I keep a journal, and as I documented some recent milestones last night, I felt overcome by the fact that she’s not an infant anymore.
That she fits into this wee romper — my little one who’s always been in the 99th percentile for just about everything — means something to me, and it’s that she’s still my baby girl.
Outfit details: headband, romper, moccasins
Is my baby really crawling? Is she really pulling up on everything, making pterodactyl noises, and reaching for me?
Is this crazy, spirited girl who licks her chops while I eat — and bites the shit out of me when she eats — really mine? When I hear her warrior battle cry, I laugh and then hope that she will grow up to be hearty, steadfast, and powerful.
I think about the complexities of making a person and how she could have just as easily developed into someone else. But she was born our girl — our spunky, silly, delectable daughter.
When I feel the weight of her in my arms, I swear I could fly.