Did you know that my baby has been a year old for one week? I'll try not to be melodramatic or anything, but seriously? I have a ONE YEAR OLD. It seems that everyone else in the family has come to grips with this, but me. Ask Tyson how old he is and he'll show you ( really, he will). Ask me and I'll probably cry.
I'm pretty sure that one is a sure sign that sixteen is right around the corner. When I was sixteen it wasn't pretty. At all.
The birthday itself was a big deal, but it's the little things that are marking the sure significance of having a one year old. A few weeks ago we finished our last container of formula. While it's a welcome relief to not have to shell out $20 a week on baby milk, it's tough to know that we mixed Tyson his last bottle of milk. Speaking of bottles? Those are gone too. We went straight to sippy cups. Tyson's adjusting fine. I'm not.
We also bought this cute little kid table for his birthday.
I'm pretty sure that a table means snacks and dinner in the highchair will soon be a thing of the past.
His car seat faces forward. This is totally awesome as we can check each other out at stoplights now. It's also totally sad because it's concrete proof that he's OLD.
We brush his teeth now. We usually sing the Grease song, "brusha, brusha, brusha: while doing it. Actually I sing. Tyson can't. And to be honest, I'm not sure that song is from Grease, I just like it. It might even be made up. It's probably made up.
Promise me you won't put this picture on the blog. And stop singing that stupid song you made up.
We read books. Like he really sits and listens to us while we're reading books. Like he brings the books to US and says, "book." He even turns the pages.
Last week he pushed the shopping cart at Target.
Next week he'll probably be out buying me groceries while I'm at home incapacitated and waiting for him to change MY diaper. I know year 2 will be amazing, I just hope it doesn't go by as fast as year 1.