Dear Arlo, My girl. Seven months old. You are officially closer to one year old than you are a newborn and that reality is hitting me like a ton of bricks. Time is cruel and fast and I know that soon enough, you will actually be one year old and I'm just not ready for you to grow up. SPOILER ALERT: your momma does not deal with change well, so this whole "growing up" thing might not happen for you. If I had it my way, you would stay a baby forever.

We've been going through a lot of changes lately. You and I have been trying to find a balance between Mommy getting work done at home, and spending time/playing/taking care of you. It's more often than not that I spend the day feeling guilty that you're playing in your bouncer or in your walker while I stare at a computer screen, editing.. emailing.. posting, not always giving you my full attention. The balance between being a stay at home and a work at home mom Is new for all of  us, and even though I'm SO thankful that I get to stay home with you and work at the same time, the struggle is real. Though I am admittedly a protestor to change, I do love watching you grow and learn. You are sitting up pretty well on your own now, eating LOTS of grown up food, and you've really mastered the art of being a drama queen. You still love love love doggies, (grandma and grandpa's morbidly obese corgi is your favorite creature to ever walk this earth), you're a bit of a momma's girl, and you dance and smile whenever we sing you songs with your name in it.

I'm learning with each month that these little letters are not only for you, but for me, too. To be able to look back and see how we've both grown over this past year Is something so special. Sometimes I can't believe how overwhelming this love is. Or how awesome you are.

Love, mom

 

 

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