10/23/2012

The cliche things that every mom says.

Breakfast 1 breakfast 2 

Sometimes, I love stormy days. Which isn't really a secret I guess. It's just so perfect how we end up staying in bed until 9:00 when it's so grey outside, cuddled under the covers and listening to the soft sounds of raindrops landing on the rooftop. These are the days that it's not so bad to be home bound, to bundle up and watch out the window as the bright yellow fall leaves are doing their dances through the wind, high up in the air. I know that come Spring, nothing is going to put me in a better mood then waking up to a sunny, warm day. But for now, I'm on the other end of the seasons. And for now, rainy days make my heart happy.

This morning mister J sat by me at the kitchen table, for the first time in...ever. Because, you see, we are moving on from the highchair. So like the big boy he is, he sat next to me at the table as we ate our toast and apples. He is so fun to have conversations with, that little man of mine. He went on and on about the trucks in the construction lot next to us. Mimicking their engines and the beeping sounds they make. He reminded me many times of what we were eating. {"Tow-tthh-t!" (toast) and "ahhhpplllee"!} And as per usual, he carried on with his fascination of the lit up chandelier hanging over our heads.

One thing about this little guy of mine, is that he loves to be a big boy. He loves to be treated as our equal. If we want to upset him quickly, we'd leave him out of something we are doing. (but why would we ever WANT to upset him?!) Right down to our everyday conversations. He just has to get in on those! We'll be in the middle of a discussion, and here comes mister J, jabbering away in mostly non-understandable toddler language. And don't laugh, no sir. He does not like being made fun of! We just smile and nod and say, "Oh really?" and "Wow!" in our most fascinated voices, to make him feel like he really is apart of this conversation. The way he acts when he gets to do "adult" things is amazing to me. He swells up with pride, his eyes sparkle, and you can read it everywhere in his sweet little face. He is one happy boy. (which might explain why he started refusing to eat without a fork at such a very young age!)

Well this morning, as we sat at the table and conversed mommy-son style, he and I, I realized something. I hate that he is growing up so fast. And I suddenly started kicking myself, real hard, right in the tooshie, for ever wishing for any of it.

You know, like when he was born and I woke up every 3 hours to feed him. And I just couldn't wait until he slept through the night! Then he did sleep through the night, and oh how I missed those middle of the night feedings. When it was pitch dark and perfectly quiet and still, with my sweet little baby pressed up against my chest, gulping and cooing away, while we rocked in the nursery.

Like when I couldn't wait for him to hold his head up on his own. How nice it would be when I carried him and he could hold his own weight! But then he did, and oh it was so overrated. He started getting wiggly and refusing to cuddle, and oh how I missed him laying that little head on my shoulder and staying there for as long as I'd like him to!

Or like when I couldn't wait for him to walk. I was so excited for him to walk! He was a little slower, didn't start walking until after he turned one. But I was so excited for it! And then he started walking, and it became a chasing game. And I remembered how sweet the days when he just sat on the floor and rolled over every once in a while, randomly smiling and baby talking away.

Or like now, when I find myself excited for the days that he can understand me and listen better when I tell him to stay by me. When he doesn't feel the need to bolt and run away at any given second that I set him down. The days when he can come along with us to football games and enjoy it. The days we can take him out to nice resteraunts with us.The days we can take him on vacations that he will remember. The days that I am looking forward to by wishing away every darn day I have now, right now.

It's ridiculous! I'm done with it, I tell you!

I'll never get this back. Sure, I'll have another baby or two one day. But I will never, ever get this back. You never get a first baby again.

I know I can't stop him from growing up, and as much as I'd like to...I also do love being by his side through every milestone we are coming across. But this "baby" of mine is turning into this little boy, and I just can't stop it. So I have to find a happy medium. A way to not wish the days away that I will miss forever, while still embracing the fact that he's going to grow up whether I like it or not.

It's a tricky thing, this being a mom. 
 And I love every dang second of it.

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