I have a problem.

A very big problem.

Enormous, even.

In just under 45 minutes, my littlest, my tiniest, my teeniest, my shortest... my BABY...

Turns one.

I don't know if I'm really happy or really sad about this. All I know is that he has a new LeapStart Learning Table and some really cute clothes, size 18 months.

And he's walking, and talking, and climbing onto chairs in order to get onto tables. And when I yelp and run to him before he falls off, he dances on the table and laughs at me.

He has lived up to his Spawnling name.

I have about 60% of his massive birthday party planned. I haven't even done a headcount yet, but it's on Saturday and it's far more elaborate than is worth it, as he's not going to remember a stitch of it anyway.

I'm painting a giraffe. He's really cute. I'm making spots for the kids to pin (read: sticky tack, because there's no way I'm giving a dozen kids pins at a toddler birthday party) on his cartoonishly short neck. He kind of looks like a camel with antennae. Not cool.

I can't believe he's turning one tomorrow.

I also can't believe he's up, AGAIN. Stupid teeth.