My baby boy is about to turn eleven months, and then next month he’s a year old.
One year old. Unbelievable.
I’m still exhausted…feeling like I’m a mother to a newborn and he’s trying to walk and wants to start feeding himself and is saying his first words–which, by the way aren’t mama or dada, but Ab and doch, his baby speak for Abi our English bulldog and doch is, well, dog. Mac loves dogs. And his brothers. And his dad and his babysitters and his mom. And being outside.
He doesn’t like getting dressed, or having his diaper changed, or being made to lie down so his diaper can be changed. He also doesn’t like being bored or being left alone in his room or being ignored. In short, he’s a lot of work. But fun. Funny. Amazing.
I love baby lips and baby eyes and baby expressions. I love how they drool and stagger about and swing their bottle when they’re drinking. I love the freedom to throw your food on the floor and scream when you don’t get your way. And most of all I love how everyone comes running when the baby cries.
Oh, if only everyone came running everytime I cried.
If only I could scream and people would find it charming.
Amazing this life. Amazing how quickly things change. I’ve really missed my grandmother Lyles. She died two years ago this month and I think of her daily. Sometimes I think of her hourly. Her books and furniture fill my home. I pass through my new library and I see her. I turn on the TV and hear about Purdue’s basketball team and know she’s cheering on her beloved Boilermakers in heaven. Even gone, my grandmother is so very very dear to me. And I miss her and still love her.
Life is beautiful and heartbreaking and exciting and challenging and it will always be a juggle and a wonder and maybe a struggle. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m alive. I’m doing. Being. Feeling.
Is there someone in your life who isn’t here anymore that you think of often? Someone you love and miss? I’ve got a special prize for one of you. I’ll be picking one comment at random Friday morning, but please, don’t feel as though you have to post an answer if the question is too personal. I don’t find it easy talking about my grandmother or my dad, but then sometimes its just good to say how much they meant to me, and how much they still do.