Of coarse I look forward to the day when my children can all effectively wipe their own booties, cross the street safely by themselves, and go to school for hours on end leaving me all alone in my house (O glory). But at the same time, k n o w i n g for sure that I will be having no more babies, seeing the last two come out of that babyness, makes me a little sad. I always thought that was kind of silly. I think I'm being a little silly this week.
First, Lil' D got some teeth. We were out to eat after church and daddy just happened to put his finger in there to check how things were going. Low and behold, a tooth was just popping thru. That was a week and a half ago. Now there's two.
He can also sit up on his own for a bit, propell himself forward (not just backward) in his walker, ate a cracker for the first time (his first "real" food), and... the real slug to my heart... yesterday morning I caught him doing the army crawl in an attempt to get a ball.
A crawl ???? No, no no no no no no no. Not y e e e e e e t! I'm not ready to give up my infant. That's the part I really like, and though the thought of being a baby factory (and then handing them off after one year to other deserving wanna-be parents) is tempting, it probably won't be happening. Which means............ my baby days are very short and very numbered.
Sob. sniffle. snot snot. sigh.
Then, if all the stuff my Cheeks comes up with in her verbal explosion doesn't knock your socks off, well... Then her telling me, very slowly, very carefully enunciated, that she is not a baby any more (her exact words, ones I have never spoken to her before), that's gonna send me off the edge.
And yesterday, when I asked her what she was doing, she answered, "Stuff." (Where do they come up with these things!!??)
As it is, I've been watching her become more of a big girl and less of a baby. As she runs around completely naked all day long, I see her tummy becoming less baby-round, and her shape becoming more girly (whereas KJ came out very girly). Her climbing skills are reaching new heights, literally. I hear her say things that express her very individual thought and will. She desperately wants to be outside with the big kids, running in the park and riding her bike around. Frolicking in the beautiful golden sun (or rain, as we've had it this week).
Yesterday, while it was pouring outside, all 3 kids decided they'd have enough of inside time, got all dressed in mud boots and rain jackets and hoods, and headed outside. It was a sight to see. KJ had her pink umbrella (because what other color is there for a little girl), Cheeks was on a little push bike/car thing we have, and B-boy was puddle jumping. Just as I was getting my camera to capture the moment, I hear a sad but loud cry from Miss Cheeks. And this is what I found. I guess she fell out of her boots, somehow. And it did not fare well for her. I found her shoeless, traversing the muddy, cold sidewalk, barefoot. And crying. And covered in mud. Poor thing.
See her looking forlornly. She just wants to be out in it.
Ha. And her favorite saying is, "Bane did it." Where does she get that, I wonder!
I just can't handle it. All this growing.
Oh, I can. But I really am feeling nostalgic about this in a way I have not experienced before. I never considered myself to be one of the types who cried upon sending their child of to their first day of Kindergarten. I thought I would be relieved. But I'm rethinking that. I may possibly end up shedding a tear or two. And if not for the first, then surely for the last. Because I do love my baby. I love that he's a baby, and in some admittedly sick way, despite the trama to myself and the worries it all caused, I kind of liked the fact that he stayed so little for a little longer than is safe due to his eating struggles. Not that I liked the lack of weight gain or the very unsatisfied baby. But he was so little and lovely. Can't they just stay like that for a couple years? I mean, have that first year stretched out to two?
I really have a hard time understanding people who don't like the infancy phase. Can you tell? But I've also had really good babies. No colic, no major health issues, no real problems of any sort. God is good.
And I say that knowing God really IS good. Good to me. And I am blessed. Despite all my moaning and groaning about how they are driving me crazy. Because there are people out there who have stories that break my heart, who have children who never saw this side of life, or who may very well leave it soon. Or not. I weep for them, and then relievedly count my blessings.
Have you counted your blessings today? Have you hugged your children, spouse, mother, brother? Don't delay.