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I was driving to work this morning when I started thinking about my son’s first birthday party this weekend. Then it hit me. And my sinuses were stung with tears.
My baby years are over.
My baby is now a boy.
I am now the mother of two toddlers.
I will not be having any more babies for this reason. I’m totally okay with that. But the passing of time still makes me sad. At night, when I rock him with his last bottle of the day, while we both swoon to the lovely voice of Alison Krause streaming from his iPod, I try to savor the moment because I know our bottle days are numbered. Next weekend, he’ll be ready for milk. We’ll start phasing out the formula. The bottles will get donated or recycled. I haven’t decided which. I will not miss cleaning them. I will not miss making them at 6am with groggy hands. But I will miss the holding, the rocking, the feeding.
What pulls me up from this nostalgic sadness is realizing the things he does now that warm my heart in different ways.
Like, how he can walk up to me and reach up, asking to be held. And then how he can wrap his arms around my neck and pull me closer. Did you know the ability to hug well is genetic? Both of my children inherited that quality from their father.
How he can’t help but dance when he hears music.
How he loves to wrestle with me on the floor.
How he gets up and stands right in front of the TV no matter how many times his sister knocks him over.
These are things babies can’t do.
His first year is over.
But I’m looking forward to the other firsts that are yet to come.
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
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8 comments:
Ah ha, the old snip-snip. Shop's now closed. Ours isn't officially closed but hubby will soon have to drink a bottle of vodka and get 'er done.
What a sweet post. I know these feelings well but you have written them wih more eloquence than I could have.
Bravo.
From Jannie, a fellow Austin blogger who found you by clicking on the "Austin" tag. Ain't blogland a wonderful place to be!
Oh oh oh....you have turned me into a "blubbering grandma" today with your lovely post.
Wait until you have to watch them head off to college....then marriage....Then we will talk....
: )
xoxo
Oh, I'm crying. This is such a well-written post. Lovely, lovely, lovely and true words.
I envy your certainty.
Even after five children, I'm not sure we're "done." Crazy, no? Just call me the Ping Pong Mama. :)
This was beautiful and true and so well written.
There are so many "new" things ahead, though, that will be great and totally different from your Zee.
Enjoy the party!
I don;t know WHAT you're talking about. You're a great hugger. If anyone should know, it's me.
I know what you mean. My baby boy turned one a few months ago. I thought I was "good" until I blogged it... It has been tough. My mom insisted it was time to start brushing his teeth, he needs to wear shoes, and I have been teased that he is the only 14 month old stil wearing onesies. (They are just SO convienient). Tonight I was talking to my husband about how his baby days are fleeting and he's getting so big. It doesn't help that everyone and their brother seems to be getting pregnant at the moment either. But like you, I too know that I would be a crazy person with three tiny ones right now...
Happy birthday to your little boy!
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I was driving to work this morning when I started thinking about my son’s first birthday party this weekend. Then it hit me. And my sinuses were stung with tears.
My baby years are over.
My baby is now a boy.
I am now the mother of two toddlers.
I will not be having any more babies for this reason. I’m totally okay with that. But the passing of time still makes me sad. At night, when I rock him with his last bottle of the day, while we both swoon to the lovely voice of Alison Krause streaming from his iPod, I try to savor the moment because I know our bottle days are numbered. Next weekend, he’ll be ready for milk. We’ll start phasing out the formula. The bottles will get donated or recycled. I haven’t decided which. I will not miss cleaning them. I will not miss making them at 6am with groggy hands. But I will miss the holding, the rocking, the feeding.
What pulls me up from this nostalgic sadness is realizing the things he does now that warm my heart in different ways.
Like, how he can walk up to me and reach up, asking to be held. And then how he can wrap his arms around my neck and pull me closer. Did you know the ability to hug well is genetic? Both of my children inherited that quality from their father.
How he can’t help but dance when he hears music.
How he loves to wrestle with me on the floor.
How he gets up and stands right in front of the TV no matter how many times his sister knocks him over.
These are things babies can’t do.
His first year is over.
But I’m looking forward to the other firsts that are yet to come.
End of an Era
My baby years are over.
My baby is now a boy.
I am now the mother of two toddlers.
I will not be having any more babies for this reason. I’m totally okay with that. But the passing of time still makes me sad. At night, when I rock him with his last bottle of the day, while we both swoon to the lovely voice of Alison Krause streaming from his iPod, I try to savor the moment because I know our bottle days are numbered. Next weekend, he’ll be ready for milk. We’ll start phasing out the formula. The bottles will get donated or recycled. I haven’t decided which. I will not miss cleaning them. I will not miss making them at 6am with groggy hands. But I will miss the holding, the rocking, the feeding.
What pulls me up from this nostalgic sadness is realizing the things he does now that warm my heart in different ways.
Like, how he can walk up to me and reach up, asking to be held. And then how he can wrap his arms around my neck and pull me closer. Did you know the ability to hug well is genetic? Both of my children inherited that quality from their father.
How he can’t help but dance when he hears music.
How he loves to wrestle with me on the floor.
How he gets up and stands right in front of the TV no matter how many times his sister knocks him over.
These are things babies can’t do.
His first year is over.
But I’m looking forward to the other firsts that are yet to come.