I can’t stop talking about it. The Deuce is turning 8 this week. I am all in my feelings (I know, I need to stop watching Love & Hip Hop: Atlanta). He is my one and only, my baby boy, my miracle child, the best part of me, and I am going to stop now because I could go on forever. With that being said, here are…
I kept it down to 4 so I wouldn’t
piss some people off hurt some people’s feelings.
I’m still trying to lose the baby fat I gained 8 years ago. Really? And an age gap of 9 years or more between them! Give up my boxed wine for 10 months? Did I mention that I am over 40?
Thank you. I. Feel. So. Much. Better. Now.
Those aren’t curse words. It’s just what I hear when I stop listening to nonsense.
OK, now you just want me to act ugly! Yes, I was feeling like this then and when he turned 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6.
Nevertheless, The Deuce is leaving 2nd Grade and heading to 3rd Grade. No matter how old he is, how tall he gets, how deep his voice sounds (Oh Lawd!)…he will always be my baby boy.
I sound like a typical mother, right?
Did/Do you feel like this about your kids getting older?
What was your favorite birthday gift when you were a child?