Blink.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

You finally see a fluttering heartbeat on a grainy ultrasound machine after 3 consecutive early miscarriages. You cannot believe you are actually going to be a mom. You cannot wait to meet your baby.

Blink.
He is born, all fresh and pink and tiny and wrinkled skin and chicken bone legs.

Blink.
He rolls over from back to front to reach his basketball toy. You are amazed that your "baby" can "do stuff" now.

Blink.
He's moved on from a milk only diet to rice cereal and now shovels in your spaghetti dinner with his chubby little hands and loves every minute of it.

Blink.
He stops saying Dadadadada and Bababababa and finally speaks the sweetest word you will ever hear... "Mama".

Blink.
He bravely stands on his own in the middle of the kitchen and takes that first wobbly step, falls down and smiles with pride.

Blink.
He runs around with his impossibly cute tush in Buzz Lightyear big boy underwear because he no longer needs a diaper, he has mastered potty training.

Blink.
He sings in the car all the time, and one day you turn down the radio to hear him sing "twinkle twinkle little star", and he knows every word and it takes you a moment to see the road through your tears.

Blink.
He presents you with a drawing from daycare, entitled "My Bedroom" and instead of the usual scribbles you see a clearly drawn bunk bed complete with himself and his sister in their respective beds. You wonder how you missed the transition from scribbles to drawing actual pictures.

Blink.
He can make you laugh, carry on a full conversation with you, tell a joke, remember entire scenes from his favorite shows, memorized every word to the Panda Palace book, clean up after himself, pick out and put on his clothes and shoes without any assistance, reminds you at bedtime to pray before you leave the room even when the bedtime routine has frustrated both of you to no end, and tells you how beautiful you are, how you are the "best mommy ever!!" and gives the biggest and best hugs everyday.

Blink.
He is four and a half, his big number five is looming and coming faster than you ever expected, as you cannot fathom how that tiny baby boy you held seemingly yesterday, and made a deal with to "not grow up" when he was a week old, is now over half your height and can spell his own name. How did this happen? Where did the time go, you wonder. You realize how fast the next 4 and a half years are going to fly by.

Blink away the tears welling up in your eyes.