Okay. Today the baby takes TWO steps.
He's so ready to walk it's unbelievable.
I, however, am NOT ready.
Why do the past nine months seem like nine minutes? I'm not ready for my baby to grow up. I can't stop him from walking when he's ready, nor would I want to. I just wish I could get back a few of those precious moments when he was this teeny tiny wonder, lying asleep in my arms. I'd like to go back for a few minutes to the day when, at a month old, he smiled at me for the first time. Or the first time he screamed out in laughter. Or even the moment they put him in my arms, with that tiny beanie on his head and his tiny swollen eyes. My, what a morning that was. I wish I could keep in the forefront of my memory those moments, so that they never collected any dust in my mind, never got fuzzy. The memories of my now almost ten year-old are practically a blur, and once upon a time I thought that would never happen. It's bittersweet. I'm excited to see the marvelous young men that they will become, but hopefully in Heaven I can go back sometimes to when they were my little babies...