I have fully adjusted to the fact that my daughter, Dolly, is eight months old. She can sit up unassisted, she can use a sippy cup, almost feed herself with her trainer spoon, and crawl all over the house at lightning speed. Okay--I lied about that last one: she's crawling and moving and it seems like only yesterday I brought home a floppy little newborn. What gives?

I get that this is all part of her growth and development, but do you always feel so blindsided by your kid's accomplishments? I bought her a walker (as evidenced in the video above), and she's all over the place. Lightning speed. A Force of Nature.

I am in constant awe of this child. Really, I am. This baby, the same impossibly small child I remember seeing in the NICU (on the real: getting choked up just thinking about that, y'all) is now walking around our house. It won't be long until she doesn't need the walker at all.

My baby is almost a toddler, and I have to stop thinking about that before I cry all my makeup off.

On a related note, anyone want to come help me baby-proof my house? This kid gets into everything. Ev-ree-thang.

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