We moved Ezra into his own room last night. He's been sleeping in his crib in our room since he came home from the NICU, but at 15 months old (12 months adjusted) we decided that it was finally time for him to have his own room, still close enough that I can hear him, but far enough away that we don't have to hear every little sound he makes in his sleep.
He did so well by himself, and I'm so proud he's big enough to do it, but it's so sad too. He's going to grow up and be independent and we'll never have these moments again. It's the same way looking back at pictures of Giselle, things change so fast and they get old and go to school and then in a second they're graduating and gone. I think it makes it hard for me knowing that I don't even have the option of doing it all again. I have two awesome kids and I don't have the need to have any others, but it's sad to think that I don't even have the option if I wanted to. That means that I'll never have another baby running around the house. It makes me feel like I have to cherish all of Ezra's moments so much more, because once they're past, they're gone forever. And time is so weird...it moves in pauses and bursts. The worst times drag on for ages and they good times seem to live in fast forward and no matter what when you look back on your life a year, 5 years, 10 years all seem like they were happening yesterday and you wonder where that time disappeared to.