I can't get enough of this almost-toddlerhood.
If I have disappeared from the blogosphere in the last couple of months, it is because baby is on the move, and he never moves faster than when he sees my hands on a laptop or a smartphone. I have had no choice but to unplug and live in the moment. What a blessing! This is such a golden age, and so short that if I blink I may miss it. The way he says "Bop!" as his punchline for every joke, or "That!" with an
emphatically pointed finger, or most recently, "Baa Baa!" staring at the
door longingly. The way he pants like an excited puppy as he cruises around
the door's frame from the living room to the vestibule and pauses
outside the bathroom door, bouncing as he stands precariously against
the closet doors. The way he blows strawberries on my neck in complete
earnestness, not understanding why the rest of us are dissolving into
peals of laughter.
The look he and his sister get the moment the other
enters the room, as if he and she are the most fascinating people on
earth. The way he cuddles up and melts into my chest. The way he
giggles when I kiss his soft, round cheeks. The intense focus in his expression as he watches us
do the most ordinary things, things that are completely unprecedented in
his experience. The way he watches trees, birds, dogs...any living
thing. The way he hogs tv remotes and begs to touch anything that resembles a control button. The soft, wide open, puckerless
kisses he lands on my face. The golden haze that seems to settle
around him when he is curled on his tummy, fast asleep. Those fat little
thighs and feet and fingers. The two top teeth that grow larger every
single day.
His smile when we gently bump our foreheads together. The
gusto with which he consumes even the most experimental concoctions. The
way he sits in his high chair with a dishtowel over his head, turning from side to side and breathing in delighted anticipation for
the moment he will yank it off in a wordless peek-a-boo. The nervous
laughter that suggests he wants what I am eating. The coos, squeals,
chirps, and grunts that will disappear when words become his primary
form of communication.
The way he makes our family feel more complete
than it did one year ago. The way watching him become a boy brings
sudden comprehension of my husband, and every other man I know. The
concentration with which he lets go of the leather pouf, his favorite
support (besides me), and takes two or three confident steps before sinking
gracefully to the floor. The way he looks at me like I am the most
beautiful, most important person on earth. That sweet, incredible little
spirit that shines out of those eyes that have turned from blue to
grey. I could go on...and on...and on...
