A better title for this post: “How I Learn to Hold My Shit Together Around Other People”
Homecoming 2016. Only one more of these left. Ugly crying doesn’t even begin to describe how this makes me feel. My first baby is almost all grown up. I see babies with their pudgy arms and legs and remember her that way. And then I remember her at age two in her little red sandals calling them “reddeh shoosh” with her diaper butt and her dark chocolate hair pulled up into a little spray of floof on top of her head. And her reaching for me and snuggling in close. Now she bends away from me when I try to get close to her. She has to. She can’t stay little forever and I do love watching her turn into the young lady she is today. It is unbearable, yet marvelous to watch. But she is still her. She is strong willed and fiercely smart, hilarious and beautiful. And I love her so hard it hurts me.
Getting ready with her bestie and look how sweet. She does mom’s eyeliner. I love these girls.