March 12

We had dinner outside on the patio this evening. It was the first time in quite a while that we did so, and with the exception of a little bug-related skittishness (*coughcough* Abby *coughcough*), we had a pleasant enough time dining together.

At one point, I looked over at Brady and was struck by the reality stick: though he's my baby, he's not a baby anymore. His little legs are long enough that he almost looked comical sitting in his old booster seat. His pants bore the mark of many a chalk drawing he skillfully created by his own hand. And his sweaty brow gave away the vigorous laps he'd taken around the yard as the meal cooked.

Nope, my baby is a big boy. And it's such a blessing to watch that big boy continue to grow, even if sometimes, I do wish I could stop time and hold onto the simple, pure joys of this age a little longer.