I can still remember talking to my dr. who delivered Sarah at one of my annual check-ups. He was asking how she was and I was gushing about how amazing she was. He said, "Just wait until she starts talking." And unlike some people, he meant it in a good way. In the way that it is absolutely mind blowing the day that it hits you that the child you birthed who has spit mushed peas on you and who you have watched struggle to roll over, crawl and then walk is now sitting across the table having a conversation with you. Like a real person. It's kind of an awe inspiring moment. I've realized that the next most exciting development after talking, is when my kids learn to write. Josh threw away most of the kid's schoolwork from last year because I have a serious hoarding problem when it comes to paperwork. And no, I don't guess we need every math worksheet, but what I couldn't stand to just throw away was seeing their names in their handwriting at the top of every page. And how it changed every week, sometimes every day. Well, I've made a concerted effort to do better this year. Every week when papers are sent home, I throw most of them away. But today, I found one in Eli's folder I just couldn't part with. In fact, I might frame it.