I used to write a lot of the tough things here, and I haven’t written much of anything lately. There are still tough things (sleep runs the gamut from great to terrible, he’s trying to escape most diaper changes by any means possible, etc), but sometimes it’s good to recognize and remember the good.
I love that my son now plays by himself for long stretches – roaming around whatever floor of the house we’re on, exploring the egg cartons and old ben&jerry’s containers in the cardboard recycling bin, playing with his toys from the baskets in the living room or in his room, pulling up to the coffee table, banging on the oven with his wooden spoon.
I love that he starts dancing within moments of music starting.
I love that he’s starting to do the toddler-squat, lowering his little body to peer at something on the ground.
I love how capable he is with climbing stairs and sliding himself off of our (floor) bed.
I love the way he sings into bowls and cups to hear the echo.
I love (much as it may be challenging) that while all of the other babies at library nursery rhyme time today sat happily and quietly in their mothers’ laps, my baby was the one screeching with joy, crawling around, and introducing himself to everyone, perfectly comfortable doing his own thing.
I love watching him devour any- and everything I bring home from the farm where I work: peaches, plums, apples, squash, eggplant, green beans, carrots, potatoes, greens. Not to mention yogurt, beans, lentils, oatmeal with almond butter and cinnamon, and all of the scrambled eggs we’re willing to give.
I love how much he loves our walks, either in the stroller or the carrier – seeing the leaves in the trees, the way the sun falls, birds, squirrels, people. And a special treat this morning – a wild grape vine dropping ripe fruit right in front of us (too many seeds – I didn’t share!).
I love how he chirps and smiles as soon as he sits up every morning, so excited to be awake.
I love how he kisses and snuggles. I love how he shares with us, offering bites of his food or the option to have his toys.
I love his soft, whispy hair, his chunky baby thighs, kissing his belly, the noises he makes (growls and songs and chatter and giggles).
Remember, remember, remember the good…