When I think of my Liv, I think without fail “my baby”, or “the baby”. She is, right? She still snuggles up with me on the couch in the morning, still has a bedtime routine and is still such a lovey dovey. She can’t be anything more than a baby right?

It takes me seeing pictures of her to knock me in to reality—Liv is a full blown kid. Not a baby or even a toddler, a kid. In 2 months, she will be 4 and has asked to get her ears pierced. A kid.

This. Right here. This is a kid.

I still refuse to believe it.