How is this possible?

Here are some rather shocking pictures of Andrew.  Or, maybe it's just shocking to me.  Somehow he turned 7 today.  How?  I don't know.  I blinked when I was holding him and feeding him a bottle, and now he's laughing at burps, farts, and when he hears the word booby.  He's not pudgy and soft.  He's boney, and scrawny.  He's not a baby, he's a kid.  He doesn't laugh when I do peek-a-boo.  He gets embarrased when I sing along to music played in stores.  He requests bands, Doug and I have never listened to in our life, ("Mom, do you have any One Direction?").  He has friends that aren't me.  He knows what to do when the ball is hit to him on the baseball field- and he can usually do it.  He's reading me chapter books and I'm not reading him picture books.   I like that he's growing up, but I hate it at the same time.  Last night before I went to bed, I kissed him for the last time as a 6 year old.  Today I kissed him for the first time as a 7 year old. 


Shortly After He was Born

1st birthday

2nd Birthday

3rd Birthday

4th Birthday

5th Birthday

6th Birthday

7th Birthday

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