Little dude is changing. Stands to reason, we are days from him turning 6 months. He's left newborn status behind and is a full fledged baby. Boy, am I not ready. I can't make dinner while holding him with one arm while he nurses anymore. He's too big. The transition from the nursing in the rocking chair to the crib isn't nearly as smooth these days because I can't scoop him up and remove the boppy without jostling the hell out of him. And the constant nursing? I am ravenously hungry and so incredibly thirsty all the time. Listen, the fact that he's growing up is undoubtably a good thing. To not grow indicates an alternative too horrible to contemplate. But it's bittersweet. They are tiny for such a short time, I'm trying my damnedest to actually appreciate every moment but it goes so fast. The second time is flying by even faster than the first.
I'm trying to soak up all the details. Did you know that breastfed babies have sweet breath until they start on solids? Probably sounds creepy, but I could sit with him in my lap, smelling his sweet little breath for hours on end. Um, did you also notice all this stuff about growing up is seeming to revolve around him being breastfed? That wasn't the direction I was planning on taking this post, I was planning on concentrating on the sleep stuff. But sometimes writing helps me sort out what the real issue is for me. He's going to be 6 months old next week. It's time to start him on cereal.
Before I started this blog I wrote a few notes on Facebook. This is one I wrote just over two years ago. I could have written it this afternoon. Falling in love with T was simple. But the first few months were still hard because you don't get much back from a baby. They just sort of lie there, it's a huge deal when the roll over or reach for a toy and that stuff isn't really riveting. Parenting a toddler is incredibly frustrating, but the payoff is so huge. Toddlers are hilarious. They also tell you they love you, ask you if you are sad and give you hugs, they are pretty amazing. So I have all that wonderful affection from T, I really don't give a crap that C doesn't give it to me. I get to enjoy him without needed anything in return. I've got to remember to thank T for that when he gets up from his nap. So falling in love with T was simple, but falling in love with C was even easier.
The selfish part of me doesn't want to let go of the control of exclusively breastfeeding, I don't want him to stop being mine. I'm just as panicked by it this time as I was last time, even though I know he is going to be even more fun a year from now. But every day he grows a bit closer to leaving our little family and growing up. We get them for such a short time. I feel like 18 years ago was just yesterday. Senior year of high school. I mean, it just happened. Didn't it Robinson Rams? And the verdict is still out on if we are going try for a third. There is a strong possibility that this is the last time I get to do this. It's time to stop being selfish and start getting used to the idea I need to let him go. In the meantime there is the important business of trying to teach him to be a good man. Recently I came across this quote by Frederick Douglas on Pinterest, "It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men." (thanks T. Tara) What an incredible reminder of what parenting is all about. It is easier. But it's still damn hard work. Zeke and I are doing our best, though.
This picture hangs on a wall of photos that lines our stairway. When I asked T who it was he said, "Thomas!" I'm probably around 18months here.
He's definitely my kid.
And sweet C isn't miserable all the time, mostly when he's trying to wake up, or when he's sleepy, ok, so a lot of the time. But the rest of the time he's like this.