Wow...I kind of got caught off guard last night when I realized...my little boy is almost a year old. Seriously, at this time last year, I was on strict bedrest, fighting with my body to keep him inside.
I look back at the pictures of him when he was first born, the pictures in which I thought he was the most beautiful thing in the universe, and can't help but cry. So many wires and tubes. So tiny. Such delicate skin.
I don't know how we did it...I don't know how we handled it.
But in 23 days, he will be a year old. We still have battles. I know that. But looking back, he has come along so much. Grown so much. Is so much more than I ever could have imagined.
Now, at 8 months corrected age, he is 20 lbs 9 oz. 18 lbs more than he was at his birth. 18 lbs!
And I can now appreciate the small things so much more. Like being affronted at the fact that I didn't get the chance to sit around knitting him some absolutely adorable (but positively bribe inducing when he is older) things, because I was too busy going to the hospital to see him.
But such is life. And I got something so much more important than that!
But that doesn't stop me from buying baby books. I have a lot of friends who are currently expecting, or have recently just had babies. So I was tickled pink yesterday when I went to my thrift store across the road, and found 3 vintage knitting pattern books (circa 1960s). Two of them are baby ones, and so very, very cute. I plan on having a great deal of fun with them all, eventually...like when I am done some of my current projects.