Social Butterflies and Little Things

We had a busy day today. We met my high school friend Heather and her nine-month-old daughter Alayna for lunch, and then Kay and Jonas (eight months) came over to our house this afternoon. We usually get together every week, but it had been a month since we'd seen them, for various reasons. It was amazing to see how much Jonas had changed. He's crawling everywhere and pulling up on things. And there was Alayna, waving hello and eating Cheerios off her tray. My sweet E seemed so young and sensitive next to these coordinated, fast-moving babies. Alayna was using her voice to make loud exclamations, and it was a little too loud for E. His bottom lip came out and started to quiver and he looked up at me with the most pitiful face. There is nothing as sad as the Sad Face.

Alayna and Jonas were absolutely delightful and I marveled at them, but being around them made me want to hold Eamon a little closer. I feel incredibly protective of my wide-eyed, cuddly boy. Not sure what I'm protecting him from. Growing up, I guess.

I'm happy that he's six and a half months old and still hasn't figured out how to roll over all the way from his back to his tummy. Let alone crawl. Or sit up by himself. Of course, part of me can't wait for him to do all of that and wishes it would happen soon, but right now, well, it sounds strange, but right now he's still all mine.

I realized recently that I've been waiting to get to this part of having a baby. There are certain little things I've looked forward to for a long time (before he was born) that are happening now. For example, when he nurses, his free hand often floats up to my face and gently pats my lips, nose, cheek, and chin, clumsily tracing my features. He does this even in the middle of the night with his eyes closed. I didn't know it, but I've been waiting for this. And when his eyes are open and he nurses, he'll play with the curls in my hair. He doesn't pull; he keeps his palm open and just lightly touches the curls with this look of awe in his eyes, like he's looking at something amazing and beautiful. Which is how I feel every time I look at him. Oh, God. My love.