timing

I'm tired. I'm tired of timing my contractions, glancing at my watch or clicking that darn purple and pink screen on contraction master. I know it's not time, just yet, but there have been many, many moments I'm not positive either way.

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I can't believe Henry has grown the patience for fishing. There was a time when he couldn't stand for a second without wiggling an elbow or a leg constantly and now, you can cast off for a fish and reel it in that 'big one'. (He's yet to put a worm on his hook or touch the fish to throw back in the water, but how can I blame him, he's like his mother that way).

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And my Wyatt, how have you possibly gotten so brave; no need for a night light, you walked right up to the tilt-a-whirl like it's nothing and you swing at amusement park rides by yourself, no bigger person needed. I'm so proud, you are so proud. Time hasn't stood still for you, you seem to be speeding through life when all I want you to do is slow down, be little for a little bit longer.




Tick-tock, tick, tock.



MN peeps, last day to enter the fabulous photo session giveaway here!