I haven’t stuck to my resolution to write a little every day. It’s been far too easy to let it slide and, sadly, I haven’t made it a priority. (Incidentally, I’m posting this information as a kind of public “confession”, especially since I tend to do better sticking to things when others know about it.)
To be truthful, there hasn’t been a whole lot to say. The weekend was insanely busy, mostly because I crammed as many errands as I could into Saturday and suffered for it on Sunday. As a result, my back and neck are quite sore, and I think I will need to pull out my heating pad before the day is through. I also tried to cram as much playtime as I could with The Boy all weekend, which was both fun and exhausting. He’s at the stage where he’s not quite able to express himself verbally and gets really angry if you don’t understand immediately understand what he’s trying to say. But he’s also very sweet and cuddly and wants nothing more than to sit in your lap, snuggle, and look at books together.
He’s quickly outgrowing his clothes (24-month and 2T pajamas are already in the hand-me-down box), and I told my husband last night that a part of me wants to cry every time I have to move him up a size. I bought and laundered new socks for him this weekend, and compared to his old socks, they looked so big. I sadly folded up the old (smaller) socks to pass along to a friend with a (much) younger boy, put sock sorters on the new socks before tossing them in the wash, and admittedly had some mixed emotions about my son’s growing feet. Naturally, I’m elated that he’s growing and quite obviously thriving, but it also means my little boy is going to be a big boy all too soon.
And, yes, that makes me a little sad.