Is This The Last Time?
I’m pretty sure I’ve said this before, but 4.5 years old is my favorite age by far . There’s just something about this age that is sweet and wonderful and perfect and silly. Quinn has turned into the most awesome tiny human, and I absolutely love spending our “Quinn and Mumma” days together. I’ve really started to make it a point to embrace our time together, and I constantly make mental notes of my favorite warm and fuzzy moments. I want to hold onto the memories of Quinn at this age and remember them the best I can. Even still, during these sweet moments, I can’t help but ask myself whether it’s the last time. As Quinn gets older, there’s certain things that he’s physically too big for, like riding around on the bottom of the cart at Target. Pretty soon, he won’t fit there anymore. Same goes for his stroller. He barely fits in it now, but when he asked me to take Murphy for a walk with the stroller this afternoon, I didn’t turn him down. (It was his code for wanting to take a