his babyhood is slipping by me, more quickly than i care for.
he’s 6 months old today, but it feels like it was just a matter of weeks ago that he came slipping out of my body on a sunny sunday morning, all puffy-faced and red with his newness.
with H, because she was my first and the shock of life-alteration was so acute, the newborn stage felt eternal. it seemed that each day, each hour, dragged by with the nursing sessions, the spit-up, the poops, and the attempts to make her sleep.
but with him, i see that it is not even close to eternal; it’s only a dime-sized pebble on the long road that is a life.
so these days i’m holding him close, burying my nose in his neck to inhale his sweet baby smell, cuddling him next to me in bed for long stretches of the night, holding his tiny hand and gazing into his wide blue eyes as he nurses, and squeezing those chunky thighs at every opportunity.
this week he’ll start eating solid food in earnest. i’m not sure i am ready for this, but it appears that HE is, and so…
here we go.