I remember distinctly when my first three babies hit the eighteen-month mark in age. The one-year mark was huge, but for whatever reason, making it to the halfway point on Year Two was just significant for me.
Maybe I realized that I was, indeed, actually DOING THIS THING.
By the time my firstborn reached 18 months old, I already had another baby, aged 3 months. By the time my second born was 18 months old, we were close to discovering there would be baby #3 headed our way in the next year. When my third born was 18 months old, I felt settled.
At peace with the number our family had (quickly) grown to.
Now, Julianne is past the 18 months mark being home. A year and a half. Though the one-year mark felt huge, this milestone feels big, too.
Maybe I’m realizing that I am, indeed, actually DOING THIS THING.
Eighteen months comes right at the start of a new stage in life; going to the same school with big brothers and big sister.
Eighteen months comes with some uncertainty. What will this new school be like?
Eighteen months is full of knowing that the norms are about to change, and needing to draw closer to family things to cope.
Eighteen months looks real. It’s continually processing fears and grief and anxiety.
Eighteen months is fun.
Eighteen months is loving speech therapy and growing in leaps and bounds.
Eighteen months is singing favorite songs, asking to be called “Princess”, and having a definite preference for Chinese-style noodles.
Eighteen months isn’t by any stretch of the imagination perfect.
But it’s more familiar. It’s safer feeling. It’s more connected.
A year and a half.
My, oh my. Time flies.
**photography by Laura James photography**