Yesterday, the girls turned seven months. I still have a hard time comprehending that. I'm a Mom. Of twins. And they are seven months old. Surprises me every time I remember.
So, last night when Scott and I were feeding babies, I was reminiscing a bit about the old days. When it was freaking cold and the girls were so tiny you only needed one hand to lift them.
Much of that time was a blur. They ate every three hours around the clock. Which by the time I got done feeding two babies and pumping, I had less than two hours to sleep before we started all over again. I'm still not sure how we made it out alive.
Fast forward seven months and we've moved past the demanding feeding schedules and onto other issues: viruses, teething, sore throats, tummy aches, constipation. There are moments I feel so overwhelmed that I don't think I can make it another minute.
But then I see things like this and can't help but laugh.