Some milestones creep up on you as a parent. Most recently for me, it was the irrefutable fact that despite my best efforts, Caroline is definitely wearing 5T clothing.
5T?!
As in, the very last size in the baby aisle at Target. Soon we’ll have to venture over to the girls section to shop for her, and the only thing I know about that mystery land is that the training bras are there.
Someone hold me. I’m not ready.
Meanwhile, Ellie turns two next week. She must’ve sneaked into 2T while I was freaking out about Caroline, and now in the blink of an eye, we’re officially no longer charting their ages in months.
It happened so fast. Too fast.
I’ve been struggling with how quickly they’re growing up. Maybe it’s because I turned 30 this year. Maybe it’s because we truly don’t know if we’ll ever be in the baby aisle again.
They say you’ll know when you’re done having kids. That hasn’t been our experience.
If we’re done, am I right to mourn all these little signs that we’re transitioning out of the baby years? I’m not sure that it matters. We could have a dozen more babies, and it still wouldn’t keep Caroline and Ellie little. It wouldn’t delay the land of the training bras.
And like the book says, maybe that’s okay.
5T isn’t so bad. 5T can open her own snacks, go to the bathroom on her own, and asks me to turn up the volume when Eric Church comes on. 5T has a killer sense of humor. 5T is magic.
So, I’ll keep on cherishing the present and living in the moment. It’s a pretty good place to be.
