A Year of Lasts

Paisley's first birthday was three weeks ago.  Oddly enough, I was not an emotional wreck until just the past couple days.  A few friends of mine have recently had babies, and my social media feeds are blowing up with newborn photos. I can't help but remember how tiny Paisley was and how quickly her first year went.  This admittedly has given me a little bit of baby fever. (Disclaimer: we are no where ready for Gootlet #2 yet - calm down!)

For whatever reason, when I look back at her first year of life, I don't think of all her "firsts".  Like her first tooth, or her first time in a big girl car seat, or the first time she ate solid foods. Instead, I think of all of her "lasts" and how I really didn't even know they were her lasts.  There was the last time I nursed her to sleep, the last time she got a bath in the sink, the last time she sat in her Bumbo chair, and a million more I could list.  Then I think of all the "lasts" she has coming up in her life.  The last time she sleeps in her crib, the last time she drinks from a sippy cup, her last day crawling vs walking,  ect.  I know the time will come when she doesn't cry at all during the day (yes, I know that is a long way away), and eventually the day will come where she doesn't want to sit in my lap and cuddle while reading "Peek-A-Who"

While I think of all her lasts, of course I am reminded of all the cheesy cherish-every-moment-cause-they-are-only-little-for-so-long-time-flies blog posts there are roughly 1,685,716,987 of.  Which then gives me a bit of reassurance about my job situation.  After a bit of an up and down roller coaster of employment and job offers, I am now working part time.  It is a good compromise, and I am happy.  And to be honest, happiness trumps all in the end.