in less than a week

Jude turns one.

I keep looking through pictures trying to figure out where my year went.

I'm gonna have a one year old and a two year old. Yes, I'm still a little overcome by it. Because I'm now far enough out that all I remember are the sweet little coos and the tiny onesies and the swaddled up baby burrito.

I know there was much sleeplessness and feeding woes and non-stop crying (oh how that boy carried on so) but that memory has faded.

Again, I feel the need to state that I love where we are at. It's nice that the boys are getting more and more independent. It's nice being able to have them play together while I eat cheesecake and watch my stories with the volume loud enough to drown out any cries.

But I can still get a little nostalgic, right? Lord help me when they leave the house. All of you that have crazy mothers-in-law (I personally do not fall into this category,) have compassion on the poor woman. She is probably just now recovering from her baby turning one.