November 27, 2013 § 3 Comments
Six months ago, this little boy moved out of my belly and into our house. Six months ago, in a blur of growls and groans and hours and mere minutes, I became a mom.
Six months ago, this little person became my very purpose, my every moment.
To be honest, a lot of it has gone by in a sleep-deprived haze. Like when you fall asleep in the car and wake up in another city, disoriented and slightly unnerved, I don’t always remember much of this ride so far, how we got here. There have been days of pure joy and pure Survival Mode, nights where I feel lucky to be his mom and lucky I’ve kept us both alive.
Somehow, over the course of six months, he’s gone from bundled blob baby to sitting up boy. From mama’s milk to spoons and solids. From aimless gazing to fierce focus. From newborn noises to his own babbling language. And it has happened oh-so-quickly. Scary quick. I know that’s how it goes.
I know there is so much more to say, especially because I haven’t been here in awhile. But right now, my 6-month-old cares not about blogs and reflection and sentiments, but demands my attention as he goes to work in the Jumperoo. He wants me to see his new trick (blowing sloppy, slobbery raspberries) and to laugh when I laugh when he laughs. So I gotta go.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.