My son turned 11 months old yesterday. And with this, our countdown begins.
He will be a year old in just one month. It feels like I only had him a month ago. Where has the time gone? Somewhere between the hundreds of diaper changes, bath times, nursing sessions, and (the first of many) baby giggles, the time has been lost.
Just 11 months ago, my husband held our tiny newborn, and lamented on how frustrating it was that he couldn’t play with him yet. “He doesn’t really do much but look at you.”
Now they wrestle in the floor and use blankets to play peekaboo. They push their toy trucks around the floor and Dad teaches him to say “vroom”. Baths are splash wars.
The past year has went by entirely too quick for my taste. I love watching him grow stronger, smarter, and bigger, each day. But I still wish I had my tiny baby.
This month, we will probably take more pictures than ever, cementing the “infant” time as much as we can. He will be a toddler soon, as terrifying as that is. And considering how fast this year has went by, the “terrible twos” will be here before we know it. Even though I think he started that phase months ago.
This first year, we have been lucky to have a healthy boy with no medical problems or emergency situations. And as a first time mom, I feel more confident as a parent that if I can survive this long, that I CAN do this. I’ve learned a lot-not just about babies or child-rearing-but about myself. And we still have a long journey ahead of us.