Metamorphosis.

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Baby's First Diaper
This morning, while sorting through the boxes we’ve accumulated over the past few months, I stumbled upon a newborn diaper wedged between the pack-and-play instructions and some other odds and ends like a monkey mobile I couldn’t fit in the bag. I ended up shoving everything I could into it, squishing the leftovers awkwardly between the Velcro handles. It was such a strange moment—like uncovering a little piece of history. And honestly, I got choked up holding that tiny diaper. I showed it off to anyone who’d pay attention: "Look! This used to fit him!" The women cooed sympathetically, their eyes lighting up with an "awww," while the guys just nodded, smiling gently, probably wondering if I'd ever stop being sentimental about every little milestone. The truth is, I can’t help myself. Watching my baby grow from that helpless newborn who relied entirely on me to this independent little person who feeds himself is both beautiful and heartbreaking. There’s something so surreal about the transition. Remember how he used to latch onto me during feedings, those chubby hands clutching at my shirt like they were meant to stay there forever? His face would light up when he looked up at me with those big, curious eyes, and I'd swear he was sharing his joy with me. Now, though? He’s all about independence. He holds his fork like it’s a prized possession, stabbing at his food with determination until he finds something worth eating. Then he beams at me with that gap-toothed grin, proud of his accomplishment. It’s funny how quickly time passes. One day you’re changing diapers, and the next you’re cheering them on as they conquer new skills. I don’t know why I’m crying again, but I think it’s because I miss the simplicity of those early days—even if they were exhausting. Toddler Feeding Himself

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