Last Friday, April 25th, my son turned six months old. My plan was to write a post that day to mark the occasion. But...he had other ideas. We had an errand to run at noontime, so I was getting him ready to go, when...he projectile vomited all over me. LOVELY. It seemed like maybe his lunch just hadn't settled right, so I changed him and got him ready and we headed out. We got to the parking lot of Babies R Us and I put him into his stroller. He then...projectile vomited all over me again. So, instead of running errands and writing blog posts, we went to visit the pediatrician. He had a stomach flu, and recovered pretty quickly. But then I got the stomach flu and didn't recover as quickly. I haven't been that ill in a long while. So, all this to explain why this post is six days late. But happy belated six month birthday, Buddy!
The past six months have been the most amazing I've had. You hear all these amazingly corny things about parenthood and what it's like...but the thing is, it really is everything they say it is. I have always had an abundance of love in my life. I have so many family members and good friends around me. I never felt like there was any shortage of love in my life, especially not since I've known my husband, who has brought even MORE love to my life. But in the last six months, I've experienced a kind of love I didn't even know existed. All those things you read in greeting cards about a heart beating outside your own body and all that...it's all sort of just TRUE. It's pretty effing cool.
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