Macky in his celebratory birthday bath. We know how to do it up right!Please note the clearly-not-inherited-from-Mom eyelashes.
I feel like it was last week I was finding the words to express what half a year with our baby boy had meant. And now we're flipping the calendar once more. Wow.
The last month has been filled with little, long-awaited milestones: sitting, scooting and saying "Da da da da da" to the delight of everyone in earshot.
I know the next month will be filled with just as many sweet moments, but I'm going to stop saying I "can't wait" to see what they are. I can wait. I'm not rushing any of this; I'm soaking it up. His giddy splashing in the bath, the pitiful opening of his mouth between bites like a hungry baby bird, the furious kicking of his legs from sheer excitement when his dad walks in the room.
My favorite time of day is also the hardest: putting Mac to bed. He's always in such a happy mood, his tummy full and his face beaming. The coos and grins make it hard for me to put him down, to say good night. I always do, and another morning and another day always comes. Guess that's how we got to seven months, right? I wish I could make those nighttime minutes last longer.
Tonight I'll put him down and wonder how much faster the rest of his first year could possibly speed by. Then I'll start daydreaming about a machine that stretches twenty-four hour days into long, slow months. Wouldn't I make a fortune??
Happy, happy seven months, sweet Mac. We love you!
The last month has been filled with little, long-awaited milestones: sitting, scooting and saying "Da da da da da" to the delight of everyone in earshot.
I know the next month will be filled with just as many sweet moments, but I'm going to stop saying I "can't wait" to see what they are. I can wait. I'm not rushing any of this; I'm soaking it up. His giddy splashing in the bath, the pitiful opening of his mouth between bites like a hungry baby bird, the furious kicking of his legs from sheer excitement when his dad walks in the room.
My favorite time of day is also the hardest: putting Mac to bed. He's always in such a happy mood, his tummy full and his face beaming. The coos and grins make it hard for me to put him down, to say good night. I always do, and another morning and another day always comes. Guess that's how we got to seven months, right? I wish I could make those nighttime minutes last longer.
Tonight I'll put him down and wonder how much faster the rest of his first year could possibly speed by. Then I'll start daydreaming about a machine that stretches twenty-four hour days into long, slow months. Wouldn't I make a fortune??
Happy, happy seven months, sweet Mac. We love you!
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1 comment:
Yay! Happy 7 months to my favorite baby boy!
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