Kai is 20 months old. Today. I have never liked when parents of older kids tell me to "enjoy these years, they go so fast." I know they go fast. And I'm not happy about it, even if I do dig so many things about every new stage. Like now when Kai dances with me, he says, "Listen. Beat." And sort of sings along to "Pumped Up Kicks" (probably not the best thing, I know). And when Jules interrupts my made-up bedtime stories to dazzle me with his new rhyming skills. I do soak up every moment of these moments. Because, alas, they go too fast.
I found these three remaining containers of breast milk for Kai guy in the freezer today while I was cleaning it out (ironically while procrastinating writing a story about pumping breastmilk...)
|Liquid gold depreciated...|
I know I need to adopt a glass-half-full perspective about this... and a glass of wine might help. But we're out.