The other night, I set Kai in the middle of the living room floor so I could check on the homemade breast milk/banana custard* I was baking for him. When I returned to the living room, he’d scooted four feet and was under the end table. In less than a minute.
The next night, I let him have an extended tummy-time session while his sister and I played Wii Fit. And he finally managed to get up on all fours and crawl a bit. It’s still a challenge, but if past milestones are any indication, it’s a challenge he will master in a matter of days.
Time to babyproof everything. Again. It’ll be even more challenging this time around, as we have Anya’s teensy tiny toys to contend with.
And my teensy tiny baby is no longer so teensy. Which means I will no longer have teensies in the house until my kids start bringing them home.
I’m both excited and sad about this new stage. I can’t wait to go through the discovery stages with Kai; to me, that’s one of the most fun parts of motherhood, watching him experience everything for the first time. But he has been such a joy that I’m sad to see his tiny baby days leave. Especially since he is the last; I’m too old, and too squeamish about having another c-section, to contemplate more children.
I’ve always been resistant to change, though. So I will try to accept this new stage, and all of the ones to come, a bit more gracefully than I have in the past.
As I was typing this up, my daughter came in, kissed Kai on the head, and grinned. “Hi, Blue Eyes!” she chirped. He beamed back at her. Despite the snags and bumps, they really do love each other. A timely reminder that as these treasured days pass, even better ones are around the corner.
*Yes, I feel all crunchy granola mom just typing that. Even though the only reason I baked it is because I made more milk than he wanted the other day and he refuses to drink from a bottle. The custard was, by the way, a complete failure. More milk soup with banana mashed in it than custard. I have never made custard before, so I don’t know what went wrong. Perhaps my milk is not fatty enough? Or the recipe was wrong? More experimentation is needed.