Despite my incredulity that I've been a mama for 2 whole years, it really hasn't gone by *that* quickly. I have made it a point to be immersed and present in T's life so I don't look up later and wonder where it all went. Mind you, when she's 18, I'll probably think that anyway.
At the end of her first year, when people asked me how it went, I'd tell them that it was both the longest and shortest year of my life. Short because I couldn't believe I had a year-old baby already. But also long, long, long because of the broken sleep, figuring out what the crying means, learning how to tell when she was ready for a nap, wondering about when she'd hit her physical milestones, and the seemingly constant bucket of NEED. The hours of nursing, the painstaking meals I prepared that ended up on the floor (at least Spike ate them), the hot relaxing shower interrupted 3 minutes in by a hungry baby. All the usual stuff that goes with having a new baby.
For months she's been calling her self 'Tee-yan'. Just last week, it turned into 'Twill-yan' and sometimes even 'Trill-yan'. Sniff.