As part of my apparent (most likely hormonally based) current baby obsession, I would like to point out that the owner of the feet from yesterday's post is not exactly a baby any more.
I don't really know when she turned into a big girl, but I don't like it much. Sure, I embrace every milestone she hits, every little thing she achieves. Even tonight when she purposely drew out her bedtime routine by wanting to use the potty, and after using it refused to get off of it saying she had to poo, even though she clearly just wanted to play with toys, even then? I was kind of proud of her.
But good gravy, I miss having a tiny little thing snoozing soundly doing that weird crooked neck baby cuddle/snuggle on my chest.
This is no baby, this is a Big Girl. And I'm more than a little sad about it.
That's a dang cute cheesy grin though.