Happy second birthday to my baby! Continue reading Terrific Twos
I wish this whole process would go a lot slower. I’ve gotten good at making sure I don’t take moments for granted because the reality that this might be the only time I get to experience a little baby hangs over my head as Paxon settles into each new phase.
Well, we made it. Half a year as a mom. Half a year of trying to figure out how to put a baby on a schedule when I’m not on one myself. Half a year realizing I can’t compare my situation to most others or I’ll drive myself crazy. Half a year wondering how I’m not completely disgusted to have someone’s drool fall onto my face when I lift him above me to make him giggle, or get peed on if I take him into the shower with me to bathe him, or even get pooped on if we don’t catch it immediately and he blows out. It makes me wonder who has stuck around for this journey and read each one of these posts for the last six months. Whoever you are, I want to say thank you.
I’m writing and posting this extremely late hoping it will somehow make time go by slower. In the moment, I feel like things go slow and I get bored easily, but when I wake up in the morning, I’ll see the date and wonder how or when that happened.
I’m going to start with a cliche: there’s no time like the present. I want time to slow down because I love my chunky baby and want him to stay this cute and small forever. I also keep looking forward to crawling and talking because I’m loving each new change. However, sometimes I need to be more in the moment. I’m trying to get better at putting my phone away and just enjoying moments with my son. I think I’m succeeding and only try to get on my phone when Pax is sleeping (the Nintendo Switch I got for Christmas is a whole other story).
Ever since I first saw Pax at a measly 4 lbs 1 oz, my goal was to do everything I could to make this baby fat.
In one of the plays I was in at Washington State, my fellow cast members and the director (who had just had twins a few months before) said “it’s like breastfeeding” when something was hard. Now I know it really is hard. Not to go into too much detail, but I never realized how hard someone could bite without any teeth.
As I look down at the baby asleep while I write this, I still can’t believe the direction that my life has taken. I’m thankful everyday that Paxon is so healthy and I have the opportunity to be in Seattle while he’s growing up.
I stumbled onto this poem by Rupi Kaur and it hit me in a place I didn’t know was vulnerable when I found it. Paxon is a piece of me and a piece of the man I love and, all so suddenly, I want the world for him.