My daughter is almost a year old.
Take a moment to absorb that (because I need it).
The little speck of hope and love I carried for precisely nine months, spent just under ten hours laboring to deliver, woke up countless hours to nurse, is not really my baby anymore.
Pretty soon, I'll be sending her off the preschool and then kindergarten and then high school and then college and then she'll get married and have babies and become President and I ... I will be old.
How did this happen? Why must this happen?
Doctor, I would very much like it if you could do something wibbly-wobbly and stop time for me right now, in this moment when everything is so sweet.
Thanks very much.
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