7 wonderful months
Our Elijah turned seven months old on Friday.
We're more than half-way there to that exciting and vaguely wistful milestone of the first birthday. We're coming closer and closer to when he will be mobile and taking everything out of my cupboards, and wanting to climb the stairs, and chasing his older siblings in the yard.
It goes by fast.
And yet, it doesn't.
I'm sure other moms understand what I mean.
The days blur into night and back into days. Meanwhile there are these three other little people whom I love, who take up a lot of my energy too. (For instance, when Teacher says, "read aloud for fifteen minutes," it takes approximately 25-30, of course).
It is all so cliche and almost embarrassing to say, but he is the perfect baby for our family. He makes us all laugh with his budding sense of humor (isn't it charming when babies begin to figure out how to make others laugh? And then they do it over and over?), his coos are the by far the best sound to wake up to in the morning, and he lights up whenever his siblings come to play with him. He loves his life.
And we just plain adore him.
He was born on the feast of St. Anthony and it becomes clearer and clearer to me why; the patron saint of lost things was looking out for us. Little did I know we were the lost things. This child brought more peace and unity in our home than ever before. He hasn't "done" anything for that to be the case; simply his warm, gentle being brought this into our life.
I am a bit sad at how fast time is going with him. I don't want to forget the weight of his perfectly plump and soft body in my arms, because soon enough, he won't be carted around anymore. I don't want to forget the sweet and hilarious way he laughs when I pick him up to nurse, as he realizes he's about to be fed his favourite meal. I don't want to forget how he always finds my face in a room, and then as soon as we make eye contact, he squeals.
I love him so much. I am so, so grateful he is with us.
We're more than half-way there to that exciting and vaguely wistful milestone of the first birthday. We're coming closer and closer to when he will be mobile and taking everything out of my cupboards, and wanting to climb the stairs, and chasing his older siblings in the yard.
It goes by fast.
And yet, it doesn't.
I'm sure other moms understand what I mean.
The days blur into night and back into days. Meanwhile there are these three other little people whom I love, who take up a lot of my energy too. (For instance, when Teacher says, "read aloud for fifteen minutes," it takes approximately 25-30, of course).
It is all so cliche and almost embarrassing to say, but he is the perfect baby for our family. He makes us all laugh with his budding sense of humor (isn't it charming when babies begin to figure out how to make others laugh? And then they do it over and over?), his coos are the by far the best sound to wake up to in the morning, and he lights up whenever his siblings come to play with him. He loves his life.
And we just plain adore him.
He was born on the feast of St. Anthony and it becomes clearer and clearer to me why; the patron saint of lost things was looking out for us. Little did I know we were the lost things. This child brought more peace and unity in our home than ever before. He hasn't "done" anything for that to be the case; simply his warm, gentle being brought this into our life.
I am a bit sad at how fast time is going with him. I don't want to forget the weight of his perfectly plump and soft body in my arms, because soon enough, he won't be carted around anymore. I don't want to forget the sweet and hilarious way he laughs when I pick him up to nurse, as he realizes he's about to be fed his favourite meal. I don't want to forget how he always finds my face in a room, and then as soon as we make eye contact, he squeals.
I love him so much. I am so, so grateful he is with us.
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