It used to be big things. Learning to walk, to roll over, to hold his head up, to sit. I used to be able to easily see the jumps in his growth as his footie pajamas were too snug to do up. But now it's little things. It's him eating a whole meal with his fork by himself, or him telling me his drink is 'all done' with the signs I've shown him. It's waking up to discover after all those fruitless tries he can now climb onto the couch with ease. It's hearing sudden bursts of new sounds come from him, and suddenly seeing teeth where there weren't any for a long time.
But still it is going so fast.
I don't wish it away anymore though. There was a time where I wanted nothing more than for him to be my baby forever. To live in a perpetual Peter Pan world where he wouldn't grow up. I don't know what happened, but I just don't feel that way anymore. Instead I feel it with him. The excitement of newness and challenges to take on. The rush of new things untapped and unexplored. The fabulous journey that is growing up.
Though I miss the days where he cuddled me endlessly and was my sweet little ball of squish, I would never ever wish away this adventure for him. I no longer want him to slow down (though I'm in no rush for him to speed up either) but rather I'm learning how to soak it in and enjoy it not only from the perspective of his mommy - teary eyed as he takes his first steps - but from that of someone who was once living it all for the first time. Embracing the moments - both good and bad - with a feeling of contentment because I am here and now, with him. One day, he will no longer be excited at the prospect of colouring or be fascinated by the way the leaves move in the trees. One day he will be grown and these days will be glorious memories for me. I don't want those memories tainted with a bitterness of hoping for something else. I want them filled with lightness and sweetness for the joy that is right now.
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