8

Here's the truth (Mechelle, are you reading this? Because it will matter in a few months): when you have a newborn, you're just getting through it. Yes, they are precious. And so tiny. Holding them is very sweet, and becoming a parent changes your perspective on life, and all of that is valuable, both in the moment and in the memory of it. But the day in, day out is you pouring all of your time and energy into this little blob with very little reciprocation. And in many ways it's a moment that requires faith, because you're giving so much of yourself and trusting that in the future there will be some return - that eventually they will smile, grow, laugh, and love you back.

I have been reminded again how much Silas's tummy troubles affect his personality. They prolonged that infant period in some ways - keeping him awake and needing constant comfort, with little emotional reciprocation (unless you count no longer crying, which counts for something, but is not enough). There were occasional smiles, but no real response for many months. It was harder on me, as his mom, than I realized at the time.

He's making up for lost time now.

And I'm having a blast watching him grow. I love hearing him laugh, seeing what his little personality is like, seeing him explore and enjoy new things. He is crawling all over the house, pulling toys out of a container, activating cause/effect toys (which means, chasing a little red train until he catches it, pushing the button that makes it go again, and chasing it some more, and me laughing the whole time), pulling up onto anything that will stand still (including the dog and my blue jeans when I'm in the kitchen). And laughing - at his brother, at friends, at his grandparents. He loves to see babies his age, and he LOVES a party. The more excitement, the happier he is. He will also stop whatever he is doing and bounce in rhythm to whatever music he hears. Seriously? If we videotaped it, it could probably win us ten thousand dollars. The other day he was afraid of the leaf blower, and wouldn't settle down until he was perched on my shoulder, clutching my shirt. It was the first time he'd shown recognition that I am his mom, a source of comfort and love, and not just the woman who feeds and changes him.

Eight months old (through about eighteen months) - this age is the reason I have babies. I love it. I love watching Silas turn into this little person, with interests and fears and talents of his own. And I love watching him discover the world and interact with his dad, brother, and extended family. This is what I've been waiting for, the fruit of all of those months of pacing with a crying baby.





See what I mean? So big and so little at the same time.