Pregnancy is often referred to as 9 months. It’s actually 10 months but for some women who go into labor, it’s less than that. It’s probably been referred to as 9 months because most women don’t realize they are pregnant until a whole month has gone by. But I’m hazarding a guess.
What this entry refers to is actually the point in time when I realized my daughter will no longer be a baby. And it’s not that she’s actually 9 months old right now. It occurred to me as I was looking for footsie pajamas. When they are young, almost everything is a footsie pajama. Let me tell you a good pair of footsie pajamas are very hard to find after a certain age. They just aren’t as adorable as they are that young age
My daughter is growing every day and I can tell this because her clothes don’t fit her anymore or her diapers are getting tighter. As she develops and grows, I am simultaneously happy and sad. She’s healthy, happy and edible. The fact that she’s growing means time is going by quickly and I can’t contain her in this particular stage (and this is an adorable stage!).
As I look at pictures and see newborns in the neighborhood, I remember her at those ages with such fondness. But it wasn’t even that long ago! Now I just take in as much of my time with her as I can. Because it will only go faster, I fear.
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