It’s difficult and easy to believe my boys turned three months old yesterday. Time, especially in the middle of the night, has moved so slowly. And yet, I can’t believe we’re (well) into August. August! The time when I was pregnant seems so long ago. The time I spent in the hospital and in the NICU seems so long ago. The time when I was afraid to touch the boys, because they were so very, very small, seems so long ago. And yet today I struggled to fit Owen’s 0-3 month onesie over his cloth diaper. And last night I realized I no longer have to roll up the sleeves on James’ newborn pajamas. And then Sophie is talking to Nini about cartoon characters “not focusing.” How in the world does she know about focusing? I remember when she was the one I was struggling to fit into 0-3 month clothes, when she was the one I was afraid to bathe, when she was the one who elicited such excitement from me simply because of a smile or a coo.
Happy three-month birthday, my loves. I can’t believe (and am so thankful for) how much you’ve grown.
“But what minutes! Count them by sensation, and not by calendars, and each moment is a day.” —Benjamin Disraeli
