Four

Someone turned four last week. I would have made this post earlier, but something always got in the way.

Then I realized, maybe the reason I’ve hesitated to write this is because I’m having a difficult time accepting that my “baby” is four years old.

It’s so much harder the last time around.

Happy birthday, Gwen. No matter how old you get, you’ll always be my baby.

πŸ˜ƒ+

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