This evening, for the first time, our little man sat in his high chair while Dad and I ate dinner. I’d given him a little transition cup with a tiny bit of breast milk and a spoon. He immediately put the cup in his mouth and we helped him take a few sips. He chewed on the spoon. Husband and I laughed at him and visited until he turned cranky that the cup was not as free flowing as the breast he is used to. It was fantastic. The first of many family dinners to come.
When little man was tiny, our routine was to get up every few hours at night and then, around six or so in the morning, he’d stop sleeping if we left him in bed. So I’d hold him in a big chair in the living room and rock and sometimes read or knit while he slept. It was such a special time.
Now, I wake up to his little coos and ahems from the pack and play beside our bed. If I sit up, there he is smiling at me with his wide toothless grin. He does a little happy wiggle that means “pick me up” and I do.
We cycle through our day, on a 2 hour repeat of eat, play, nap interrupted by the occasional trip out or walk with the dog or lunch for me…
He’s starting to sit for a few seconds by himself and is fascinated by his body–he grabs his toes every chance he can get and he is practicing rolling back to side (he has long mastered front to back).
He’s a delight. I’m home with him and we have a quiet days except for our strong loud guard dog and the three of us couldn’t be happier… except when the door opens and the fourth member of our family comes in. Then there’s barking and jumping, laughing and smiling at Daddy(!) and me feeling as full and happy as I ever have.
Thank God for this little family. It’s so much more than I ever knew I wanted.