
It’s the end of an era at our house. Warner is one year old. My last baby isn’t a baby anymore. I’ve spent the past 5 years and 3 months either pregnant or nursing.
I’ve been unexpectedly emotional about Warner’s first birthday. It’s certainly bittersweet. On one hand, I’m ready to move on to the next phase of our family’s life. I’m ready for more adventurous family vacations and that “golden age of parenting” that comes after potty training and learning to take a solo bath… when your kids can do things for themselves but still love you and need you. No more worrying about how the medications I take or food I eat will affect a baby.
On the other hand, I’m going to miss getting up in the middle of the night to nurse a baby. I’m going to miss hearing newborn cries and sweet first giggles. I’m going to miss taking mid-afternoon naps without needing an excuse. And I don’t think you’re allowed to call those extra few pounds “baby weight” when there aren’t any babies.
So now, we’re trading the infant carrier for a front-facing big boy car seat. And we’re buying extra sippy cups.
In a few weeks, once I’ve finished the cleaning out, there won’t be any traces of infancy. All the bottles and breast pumps will be gone. The infant carrier will be given away, and any clothes smaller than 12 months will be at consignment or Goodwill.
I’m so excited about the life ahead for Warner; I’m just sad for me. I love that first year of life so much!!!


