Man. Today was big. You finally let me do your hair. Nothing major, just two little afro puffs, but it was like all of a sudden you were grown. Like you didn't need me. You were standing more, crawling faster and just over all more independent.
And to make matters worse, you were wearing the cutest top and jeans from ZARA that really made you look like a little woman. It was just too much.
In 30 days, you will be one year old and I don't even know how it's happened. I've been "planning" your party for a few months now - which really means I've been in denial for months - and now I really have to execute. While I was so focused on the "perfect aesthetic" and giving a cute Minnie Mouse party, I realized that you enjoy Sesame Street so much that I should probably make that the theme. After all, it's your birthday.
Anyways, I'm proud of your commitment to discovery and happy that you have a healthy appetite. Even if that means none of my meals are actually just mine anymore.
You're my favorite. I love you.