My baby turned one today, and I just couldn't be more proud of the sweet, rambunctious, adorable little boy he's growing into, but I think I'd prefer that he stay my little baby for a bit longer. Is that too much to ask? I'm in no hurry little man... got that?!
There's really no slowing down time though, I realize. It just keeps ticking by, and Gus keeps picking up more "toddler" tricks everyday. He really truly started walking over the last few weeks, to the point that it is now his primary mode of mobility. He charges all over the house, taking no prisoners. Vacuums, puppy dogs, laundry baskets, beware. Gus doesn't go around things, he goes through them. Rather than slowing down for obstacles, he charges at them with as much gusto as he can muster. The last few mornings he's started to toddle around in his jammies with this little Precious Moments doll that we got from someone at one of my showers, very random I know, you squeeze it's tummy and a little boy's voice says our bedtime prayer. Anyway, the doll has on top of it's head this little blue night cap with a white puff ball at the end of it. Gus sticks the puff ball in his mouth and frankensteins his way throughout the house with this big ole thing just swinging back and forth, back and forth in front of his chest. His eyes and his little devilish giggles saying, "Look mom, dad! No hands!" Gosh he makes us smile.
His first word was, of course, the dog's name (clearly Dan and I spend a lot of time scolding, calling for, and just generally dealing with her and her neuroses) and he chases the poor dear throughout each room of the house, from couch to couch, hiding spot to hiding spot, "Bay-ya, Bay-ya, Bay-ya!" All dogs are "Bay-ya". He looks down for her from his high chair when he eats, especially in restaurants, when he's throwing food to the floor like a maniac yelling, "Uh-ohhh!". Of course he shares bites with her, and then sticks the little piece of food she has just taken a bite out of back into his mouth. It is all very sanitary and not at all distressing for his poor mother.
Boys and their doggies right?
So we had the big, crazy, loud, extravagant, wonderful birthday party last weekend, and today was nice and quiet. Dan went over to my brother's house to help dry-wall his basement, and Gus and I had a nice morning running a few errands with my mom, we went to the mall and he got to play in the little play area for the first time. He finally fits in with those kids there, now that he's walking. Gosh, 10 months ago when we walked that very same mall during my maternity leave, him in the moby, me with my coffee, that just seemed so far away. And now we're here. A blink of an eye, and that first year is over. My baby.
So for now I'm going to hold onto every last "baby" thing I can and cherish it and appreciate it and remind myself how fleeting time is. I will nurse my boy all night, every night, if that's what he needs. I will rock him to sleep when he's awake at 4:00 AM and try not to frett over how perpetually exhausted I am. I will hold his bottle even though he really should probably be holding his own bottle by now. I will sing nursery rhymes to him, kiss his little perfect eyelids and neck rolls, squeeze his little tummy because it will be the lean and slender abdomen of a toddler soon enough. And if I want I'll dress him in cozy striped knits and little puppy dog moccasins instead of jeans and polo shirts. Just a little longer baby boy, ok?
There's really no slowing down time though, I realize. It just keeps ticking by, and Gus keeps picking up more "toddler" tricks everyday. He really truly started walking over the last few weeks, to the point that it is now his primary mode of mobility. He charges all over the house, taking no prisoners. Vacuums, puppy dogs, laundry baskets, beware. Gus doesn't go around things, he goes through them. Rather than slowing down for obstacles, he charges at them with as much gusto as he can muster. The last few mornings he's started to toddle around in his jammies with this little Precious Moments doll that we got from someone at one of my showers, very random I know, you squeeze it's tummy and a little boy's voice says our bedtime prayer. Anyway, the doll has on top of it's head this little blue night cap with a white puff ball at the end of it. Gus sticks the puff ball in his mouth and frankensteins his way throughout the house with this big ole thing just swinging back and forth, back and forth in front of his chest. His eyes and his little devilish giggles saying, "Look mom, dad! No hands!" Gosh he makes us smile.
His first word was, of course, the dog's name (clearly Dan and I spend a lot of time scolding, calling for, and just generally dealing with her and her neuroses) and he chases the poor dear throughout each room of the house, from couch to couch, hiding spot to hiding spot, "Bay-ya, Bay-ya, Bay-ya!" All dogs are "Bay-ya". He looks down for her from his high chair when he eats, especially in restaurants, when he's throwing food to the floor like a maniac yelling, "Uh-ohhh!". Of course he shares bites with her, and then sticks the little piece of food she has just taken a bite out of back into his mouth. It is all very sanitary and not at all distressing for his poor mother.
Boys and their doggies right?
So we had the big, crazy, loud, extravagant, wonderful birthday party last weekend, and today was nice and quiet. Dan went over to my brother's house to help dry-wall his basement, and Gus and I had a nice morning running a few errands with my mom, we went to the mall and he got to play in the little play area for the first time. He finally fits in with those kids there, now that he's walking. Gosh, 10 months ago when we walked that very same mall during my maternity leave, him in the moby, me with my coffee, that just seemed so far away. And now we're here. A blink of an eye, and that first year is over. My baby.
So for now I'm going to hold onto every last "baby" thing I can and cherish it and appreciate it and remind myself how fleeting time is. I will nurse my boy all night, every night, if that's what he needs. I will rock him to sleep when he's awake at 4:00 AM and try not to frett over how perpetually exhausted I am. I will hold his bottle even though he really should probably be holding his own bottle by now. I will sing nursery rhymes to him, kiss his little perfect eyelids and neck rolls, squeeze his little tummy because it will be the lean and slender abdomen of a toddler soon enough. And if I want I'll dress him in cozy striped knits and little puppy dog moccasins instead of jeans and polo shirts. Just a little longer baby boy, ok?
