Whilst shuffling through my old Flickr sets in search of specific photo for the carefully-crafted (and hilarious, yet touching, but also edifying) post* I was writing, I came across various baby photos and ended up losing one whole hour to Weepy Maternal Nostalgia.
For instance, this is what the little people at my breakfast table looked like just one year ago:
And the year before that, Jimmy was still this teeny, tiny babe-in-arms:
And, before Jimmy was even an accidental (but adored!) twinkle in his mother's eye...
And so on and so forth and sob. I would expect to feel nostalgic and weepy after years, sixteen or eighteen or thirty perhaps, but how have these past four years slipped by in a both an instant and a lifetime? I tell you: were it not for the nine months of vomiting and heartburn and swollen feet and incessant cup-peeing and back labor and bleeding nipples and sleep deprivation, I would almost be tempted to make another of those things.
*Not really, it was some drivel about spiders. You dodged a bullet, actually.