01/17/2026
💔❤️
The 2022 babies are no longer toddlers this year.
They’re turning four.
Four.
And I genuinely don’t understand how that happened.
It feels like yesterday they were just… here.
Tiny.
Soft.
Still learning how to walk.
Still learning how to talk.
Still needing help with everything.
And now?
Four is old enough for school.
Four is backpacks and lunchboxes.
Four is writing their name.
Four is raising their hand and waiting their turn.
Four is big opinions.
Four is wanting to do it “all by myself.”
Four is picking their outfit and their shoes.
Four is knowing exactly what they want.
Until they don’t.
Until they’re tired.
Or overwhelmed.
Or need to be held like the world feels big again.
Four is independence with one hand
and comfort with the other.
I still catch myself staring at them,
trying to remember when the shift happened.
When the baby disappeared
and this whole little person showed up.
And somehow,
the baby I brought home in 2022
will soon be wearing a backpack.
Four is brave.
Four is loud.
Four is messy.
Four is magic in a way you don’t understand
until you’re living it.
