You are growing and changing so rapidly. Last night, I cried as I was falling asleep because I’m sad about how quickly time is passing. I’m afraid that I’ve made decisions I regret, many of which have kept me from focusing on what truly matters – you – instead of an endless list of meaningless tasks and logistics.
This morning, you gave me the greatest gift of your musical laughter. After consuming an impressively large bottle, instead of immediately squirming out of my arms to play like you do so often these days, you initiated a game of peekaboo with me. You lifted up your burp cloth to hide your face, and when you dropped it, you squealed with joy. You did this over and over again, and we took turns hiding behind the burp cloth, you laughing with each and every reveal. Having such a fun and loving time with you this morning made it very difficult for me to leave and go to work.
Your newfound mobility scares Mama a bit because she knows that this is just the beginning of your increasing independence and decreasing need for constant assistance. When I see you make your way over to your toy bin, pull it out and peek inside, your “jackpot!” reaction warms my heart and reminds me that we are both doing our jobs to help you become the person you’re meant to be.
Words can’t fully express my love for you, son. I hope that my actions each day convey the depth of these feelings.