life as we knew it

just ended today. 

peter learned to climb the stairs.

we have steep stairs, with a twist, and no gates. 

I worry that I’ll loose track of him for one second and then hear the dreaded thumping down the stairs.

Thankfully I have my 2 big kids who are much more worried (and vigilant) about Peter’s safety than I am. 

It’s not just the added stress/worry that this new milestone brings with it that makes me sad, it’s that my baby, THE baby, my final one, is growing up.  He’ll be one in just a few weeks, for crying out loud!

Peter continues to be the most adorable baby who ever lived (maybe I’m a little biased).  He charms the socks off of everyone he meets.  He has an easy grin, filling in each day with new teeth (6 and counting!).   He is mellow to the core and is normally happy to just go with the flow – mostly likely because that’s his only choice most days.  He spends A LOT of time either in my Beco backpack or the stroller and in the whole two months we’ve been here, traipsing around this big new place, there have only been a handful of times that he has complained about it. 

Tonight I videoed him in the kitchen while he and Jeff played peek a boo.  And I could feel it.  I could feel the heart wrenching tug I’m going to feel in 5 years when I watch that video.  The hollow longing to reach into the screen and grab that baby, nuzzle into his neck, smell his baby-ness, squeeze his chubby thighs and beg for one of his slobbery kisses.  It made me tear up right then and there.  And it made me snatch him right out of that chair and drink him in.

Peter has been waking up in the middle of the night again, and despite all my best attempts, there’s nothing I can do to get him to go back to sleep except for nurse him in the dark.   I’ve spent quite a few nights resenting this night time waking, wondering if I could feed him more during the day, or dress him warmer or give him more water if he’d sleep right through, I am just SO TIRED and it feels like moving bricks to get my body out of my nice warm bed.  But, then I cuddle him in and his rhythmic breath, his smell, his body contoured around mine, his soft cheeks and cold hands warming up in mine bring that flood of milk and love all intermixed. If I let myself wake up a little and be present, I forget all about how nice it was sleeping in my bed and instead I drink it all in, suck in the beauty of that moment with each of his breaths.   Me and my baby in the middle of the still night. 

Although there may be too many of these nights in the next few months, there won’t be any of them in the next few years.  Sure I’ll be well rested and that will be glorious (and may work wonders for my ability to be patient during the day) but I’m going to work on savoring this little baby while I can, even if that’s in the middle of the night. 

And, I’m going to do my darndest to teach him quickly how to get himself down the stairs with out any thumps.