SIGH.

I spent several days this last week cleaning out closets and packing up clothes to donate, and it got me all weepy to put those little bitty clothes away (from all of the kids). I also packed up my maternity clothes, but that’s another story for another day.

Ahem.

Anyway, my baby is not a baby anymore, allegedly. 

Here’s why.

1. He’s walking. He has taken several steps this week, up to six or seven at a time. This is notable because all of his siblings were at least 15 months old before they were walking.

(I tried very hard to get a picture of him in action, but you know men. They’re stubborn.)

2. He’s now eating as much (or more) as all of his siblings. I am now officially cooking for six.

3. He’s old enough to know that he does not want to sleep in his own room thankyouverymuch. Perhaps we waited too long to put him in his own room, but the darn kid still isn’t really sleeping through the night, so I put it off. And now, his feelings are irrevocably hurt when I put him in his crib (or “big boy bed”, as I like to call it because I’m delusional).

Unless I put him in after he’s gone to sleep. Then he doesn’t mind too much. Until the morning, when he wakes up.

4. Did I mention that he’s walking?!

Please hold me. I just need to make it through the week, and the 18 years after that.