Maybe it’s because this is our last baby; maybe I’m just getting older & more emotional…if that’s even possible. See I know we are experiencing firsts & lasts all together. I’ve been here two times before.
I’m laying next to Christian on his daybed as he drinks his bottle and I can’t help but drink him in and start thinking that this baby smell will soon disappear with time. These soft hands & feet will become calloused with little boy play & steps in real shoes. These wispy hairs on top of his head will thicken. He will soon stop pulling himself to a standing position & looking into my eyes, asking to come up without uttering a word. More clothes will join the many already boxed up and divided accordingly (0-6 months, 6-12 months, 12-18 months). Another baby will wear the clothes that 3 others have worn before him.
He will turn a year old in 6 weeks, more teeth will crowd his mouth, he will walk and likely run after his brothers in rapid succession. He will learn to conquer the stairs with ease and I will no longer need to run after him as he gives me his naughty Cheshire grin and clumsily sprints up them. He will develop his own personality, no doubt molded by being the youngest, our baby, the doted upon. Most days he is the center of our attention and we all take turns entertaining him, seeing who can make him laugh the most.
This progression has happened in my house twice already…My McKay Guy, once our only babe, dubbed our 3rd best friend, and doted upon in his own right, is now constantly bruised and scabbed from riding his skateboard and scooter. He’s solid and muscular. I still pick him up but instead of the little boy I could easily toss into the air I use my knees and brace my back for the sack of potatoes he has become. I want to pick him up and hold him forever but I realize I have a few more years if I’m lucky. On weekends he still comes into our bed in the morning and snuggles with us. He’s starting to read and write and roll his eyes.
Gabe seems so little to me still but he gets growing pains in his legs daily because of how quickly he’s sprouting up. He’s transitioned from baby face to full blown boy in the last 18 months. As the second baby with an older brother to keep up with he seemed to sprint towards each milestone…walking, potty training, learning his letters, and if he keeps pace, soon full blown reading. He’s still my snuggler, ever since night #1 in the hospital when I pulled him close when he was fussy. We fell asleep together like that, him the size of a football. Now his legs seem to stretch halfway across the bed but he still curls up the same way. He still climbs into my lap at dinner and plays with my hair. I soak it in because I know soon, like McKay, he will sleep for longer and longer in his own bed until he sleeps all the way thru the night in there.
Will the Bear get through all of his milestones at this fast forward pace too? I can’t help imagine he will. Will the baby itch try to knock again once we no longer have a baby to sniff, bottles to make, and diapers to change? Last night I had a dream we were trying for another so my guess would be yes.
We were talking to the older boys before bed the other night and Gabe was telling us he would always sleep with us..forever. I told him he could always crawl into our bed at night but that one day he would grow up and probably go to college. This was an extremely foreign concept for him…what is college mommy?
I tried to explain it was school where you slept over at night. Sheer panic set in with our mamas boy…and 20 questions followed…Why would I have to sleep away from you? Why would I have to stay at school all the time? Why wouldn’t you come pick me up? I don’t want to do that mommy (full tears). Gently backing away from this still 14 years down the road commitment I said to him, some kids don’t sleep at school, they drive home every day after their classes. You could do that and still have dinner with us. Baby boy, you can stay in our house as long as you want. It took a while for him to trust this idea and dry his tears.
I quickly realized that my most important job was to console him and ease his fears and so I did. But I also know that there will come a time that he will no longer feel that way. When he gets the ultimate itch to leave our house I will tell him this story from when he was our four year old little boy. I will remind him he never wanted to leave his mommies. And he will likely roll his eyes and say, ‘Jeez Mom, do you always have to tell that story?’ Liz will laugh at us and tell Gabe that I’m sensitive and have been worried about this day since night #1 in the hospital. She will hug him and give him $20 for beer. And then I will lean into her as he drives away and cry just as hard as he did that night… and roll my eyes at her for giving him beer money. It’s how this family works.
