Bittersweet

Our guest room rivals Babies R' Us right now with the amount of baby stuff that's crammed in there. The time I've been dreading has arrived-it's time to pack up the truly "baby" stuff and make room for the little guy's toddler stuff. I kept putting clothes and other things he had outgrown in the guest room telling myself I'd get to it later. Later has come and I realize that I've put it off this long because I just wasn't ready to say goodbye to his "baby-ness".
He's growing up so fast-chasing and teasing the dog. Chattering away to himself (and anyone else who will listen). Laughing at his own inside jokes and at his silly mommy and daddy. Pulling himself up on the couch and walking around holding on to it. Feeding himself. Grabbing the spoon out of my hand so he can do it. His feet are touching the back seat in his rear facing car seat, and he's almost maxed out the weight, so it's time to say goodbye to that as well.
It's so exciting to imagine the type of boy he'll be and the man he'll grow up to be, but I wish he would slow down. Inside I'm screaming, "slow down, I'm not ready" and sometimes when I watch him play my eyes well up with tears.
When I was in those first few weeks of me not sleeping and him not eating well, it felt like things were always going to be that way. I never believed people really when they said that it all goes by so fast. But that feels like a lifetime ago. It's so hard to picture my life before him. He's such a part of me-like I was just waiting for him to come along, but I've known and loved him forever. Does that make sense?
I better get to packing up his little baby stuff before I lose my nerve.

Um...Okay

Competitive mothering strikes again! The baby and I were driving home today after a visit to the library with his Aunt. It was a beautiful day, the sun was bright, the weather cool-they don't make days much better than this. While the baby entertained himself by making funny faces and silly noises, I was listening to talk radio and my mood quickly soured.
A woman called into a conservative talk show to share her views on everything going on in the country. I have no problem with that, but I do have a problem with how she described herself. She is a "college educated SAHM." Why even say that? What does it matter? Does that make you any better at being a SAHM? Do you really think that will make anyone take what you say more seriously?
I know, just let it go. At the end of the day, it's no big deal. And truth be told, I was over it by the time I got home. (Well, over it with the exception of this little rant). As a fellow SAHM, I absolutely understand her need to justify her place in this world. It really is a struggle. I guess it's hard for a lot of people to understand why my husband and I have made this choice, but for our family, it's the right choice and I know that. It's silly though. Shouldn't we SAHMs just back each other up? We shouldn't feel like we have to constantly explain our choice and assure people that we are not trashy, uneducated loser, baby-making machines. Why do we do this to ourselves?
So, lady who called in today, I'm sorry I judged you. But we both need to stop judging ourselves.

That's Gonna Hurt

I just noticed the first little kid hand print on our back door. It's so cute! I kind of don't want to clean it. I think I might just enjoy it for a little while. It's cute because he had to climb up the door a little to make the handprint. Just another sign that he's getting to be a big boy.
This has been a big week for him. On Thursday, he started to try climbing the couch. Not much success. He would pull up to his knees, but he couldn't get his feet uncrossed and he just kept falling down. Friday was a different story. How do their little minds work? Thursday, nothing but frustration. Friday, he pulls up on his knees and just pops right up. He thought it was AWESOME! Over and over again - sit down, stand up, sit down, stand up. He couldn't get enough of it!
So yesterday, he could not wait to show off his new skill for daddy. Daddy was just as excited as I was. We just watched our little guy with so much pride. Then the little guy got brave. He decided to climb the steps! So, in less than two days, he mastered standing AND he managed to pull himself up to the second step. Now instead of pride and excitement I am feeling nothing but fear! He's going to get hurt! This house is a death trap! I just want to bundle him up in bubble wrap and keep him safe...
But he's got to learn, right? I mean, of course I know that it's going to hurt when he bumps his head, but he's not going to take my word for it. He's got to bump his head to know. So, I am following him, holding my breath and I'm only intervining when absolutely necessary (for instance, I just can't let him come off the sofa head first). It's hard not to scoop him up and stop his exploration, but I'm trying.
Mommy's growing pains.