Eleven Months October 2nd, 2012
Watching him transition out of babyhood is harder this time around because I know we will never have another baby. All of these wonderful things that babies do at this age are passing through our lives for the last time. The quintessential baby crawls. The grasping for Cheerios and missing. The coos and the babbling. The frenetic flailing of arms when he gets excited. The “boops” to noses and cheeks. The curling up on a Boppy pillow to nurse before bedtime. We will never be here again.
Lately I find myself taken aback almost daily. SSP is shedding his infancy faster than I like to admit. He’s starting to take steps while holding onto our fingers. He stands for seconds at a time before he realizes he’s not holding on to anything. He can follow simple instructions like “wave” or “put your feet down” or “don’t touch that.” And I can tell that his little baby babbles are in their final throes, on the cusp of turning into actual words.
When IEP turned eleven months old I was mostly sad at the premise of weaning him. But this time it is so much bigger. I feel like I’m weaning myself now, saying goodbye to this phase of my children’s lives for the last time. Of course I know that there are wonderful things on the horizon: first words and hugs and kisses; silly games in the bathtub and countless bedtime stories; funny observations and increased amazement at the world around him.
And I can’t wait for all of those things. But they won’t stop me from missing the days when I walked into a room and SSP would crawl all the way across it in five seconds, perch on his knees at my feet, and stretch his arms up to me until I bent over to scoop him into mine. Because right now there are few things I love as much.