Six days ago, my son, Baby E, turned eight months old. Eight months. Surely, it cannot be! He is my little, perfect baby boy. And he will never grow up. Only it is, of course, and he is. I was looking at him yesterday, and I said to my husband, "You can just tell. When he was born, he was so new, and he didn't know anything about anything. Now he knows things, and he knows he knows things. You can just see it in his eyes." After which, I chuckled.
It's interesting... my relationship with Baby E is identical to my relationship with Jay (my husband) in one very profound way. It seems as if we only met yesterday, and yet that is impossible, because it feels like we've known each other forever. It's such a strange feeling, and yet, dwelling on that thought for more than a moment can make my stomach swell with happiness. It reminds me of how complete I feel. I shouldn't, and couldn't ever ask for more than I have right now. Not in the ways that truly matter.
Humans grow up relatively slowly in comparison with all other species on the planet. Eighteen years, and sometimes more, are spent giving our children the independence and countless other skills they need to thrive on their own. Yet it almost doesn't seem like enough. But we make do with the time we have. It's incredible, when I think about it, to realize how much Baby E has learned to do in this short amount of time. As mentioned in my blog post the other month, Enjoying the Slow Fix, a year was such an insignificant amount of time to me before. Now it's both an infinite, and yet fleeting. Because watching my son, it is impossible to deny that every day, every moment, counts...
In the last eight months, my son went from being completely, utterly helpless, to being able to roll all over, say "Dada", say "Mama," babble, hand me things when I ask him to, and he's now on the brink of learning to walk. He wastes no time. Like all infants, every single movement and utterance is intentional. All in the effort of working towards another essential skill. It truly is amazing to witness such a growth, such a journey.
In four more months, my son will be a year old. I think about that date four months from now somewhat wearily. Since part of me doesn't want him to grow up. And yet, on the other hand, I welcome it. Because I can't wait to see the type of person he is, and is shaping into, tomorrow, or four months down the road. And I'm sure, in the blink of an eye, that day will be here.