Before having our first baby Jordan and I decided "We're not going to do that lame thing parents always do and talk about how old their babies are in months -- it's ridiculous. Who can keep up with that?" Truth be told, that's about the only thing we could keep up with at first! Why I couldn't remember to eat lunch, but I could remember exactly how many days, hours, and minutes old our newborn was, I don't know.
Motherhood is a strange thing. It's the first time I realized that I am not the center of the universe (yes, it took 25 years), the first time I fell deeply in love at first sight (sorry world), and the first time I discovered that I can't do it all on my own. Our partnership as parents was natural, dare I say easy -- it was not too long before things fell right into place for us. Remembering each moment since our darling Neila joined our family was even easier. Now, here we are at month 23, with only two weeks and four days before we transition into describing her age in years and half-years.
Two is a milestone for Neila, but it feels like one for us, too. She talks now and states her opinions. (We translate and rephrase her opinions!) She's beginning to remember parts of her day and retell events. (Which abruptly reminded me that "That sucks!" is an inappropriate term to use in the house.) She can count and describe things. (As long as every color is pink and every quantity is two.) She can prepare her room for bedtime and recall family rules. (Using only the purple Snappi and only the pink rule: use kind hands.) Having an easy-going, happy baby for the past 23 months and 13 days has been a luxury of which we've enjoyed every second; even though it makes me one of those lame parents, as Jordan and I transition as parents into full-on, serious toddlerhood, I hope I always remember how many months old she is.
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