To Every Season, Turn... Turn.... Turn.....
One of the most consistent things about parenthood so far (besides all of my clothes being covered in some glaze of peanut butter, snot and chalk dust) is that no matter what phase we’re in, change is inevitably around the corner. Fine motor, gross motor, speech, interests… as soon as Adalyn’s got one thing down, she’s adding something else, or changing another piece. As she shifts and moves and grows, so our routine moves in little clicks forward, from pointing and grunting to stringing words together, from just turning pages of Dr. Seuss to understanding. We were just measuring out rice cereal that amounted to three spoonfuls, and now she is sitting on a stool swinging her legs and drinking from a big girl cup while eating a sandwich. Interestingly enough, I’ve [mostly] always been a fan of change. For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved the renewal that comes with even small change, whether it was haircuts, furniture, wall colors, boyfriends (oops), or hobbies. I have lived ...