One week. 7 days. 168 hours.
That's how long it is until my amazing and crazy little munchkin turns one year old. All I can say is "Holy shit!". And try not to freak out too much.
It's been one heck of a year. It is so funny to me to think about where we were at this time last year. Anxiously awaiting the arrival of the little person who was about to steal our hearts (and sometimes our sanity). We didn't expect him to show up when he did (15 days early), but we were thrilled to finally meet him. And scared shitless.
I remember the drive home from the hospital like it was yesterday. I was sitting in the back seat, staring at this squishy little crying newborn and thinking 'Holy hell - they actually let us leave the hospital with him. What were they thinking????'. I was, in a word, terrified. I already loved him so much, but I had this awful fear that I was about to do everything wrong. Add in insane hormones, little sleep and a sister sending me emails berating me for the name choice and you had the perfect storm for a complete breakdown.
But we made it.
We got into our groove, figured things out by trial and error, hit a few bumps along the way, and here we are - counting down the days (and hours) until he is no longer really a baby.
But he'll always be MY little baby. I love you, Andrew.