Wednesday, January 20, 2016

Davis: 11 Months

The other day as I was holding Davis in my arms, I walked passed our big mirror. My heart caught in my throat as I glanced at the reflection staring back at me. The baby I was holding looked like he was busting out of my arms, he looked big...way bigger than he should.

And that is where we are at. My baby, does not want to be a baby any more.

Every day he is trying to convince me of this.

And it makes my heart sad. But it brings so much joy. If that is even possible.

He may be sweet, calm, and all things dream babies are made of, but he is busy and fast and determined. I spend the majority of my day high tailing it down the hallway to catch him before he attempts to climb up the stairs. Approximately 9,964 times a day. He loves those stairs.

He's funny, I usually know when he is heading for the stairs, he goes into mission mode. The pattering of his crawling gets loud and fast and then it stops.

He waits at the bottom of the stairs until he sees me come around the corner. And then he giggles and I hear is diaper crinkling as he tries to scurry as fast as he can, up as many stairs before I get to him.

Lately, he must go up the stairs like the big boys. Even though his legs barely clear each step. He either holds onto the railing like above, or asks for my hands. Everything must be like his brothers, bigger, better.....he simply will not even consider slowing down.

He will keep up and usually does. Determined little one.

And his brothers, for the most part allow him to hang with them. Sometimes this is scary for me, and sometimes it's just plain sweet. For some reason, when Davis is in the mix, the bickering between the olders is fewer and far between. It's the Davis effect.

He now waves with just his hand, but it's usually a little late and after the person has turned their back to walk away. When he gets really excited about saying "hi" or "bye" he gets both hands in on the action. Those little fingers open and close until someone takes notice.

His pointing has turned into what we like to call, "the hook". So cute. If you are lucky enough to  have the hook pointed at you, it means that he really likes you.

He's getting to be more social and loves to flirt and grin and others. However, mama must be in close range and in sight.

I still have yet to bring myself to drop him off in the nursery during church or my women's Bible study. I just can't. I go in with every intention, and then he nestles into my neck and gets all cozied up in his carrier, that I can't bare the thought of parting from him. Personally, I think he does so because he has taken up quite the liking to all the woman in my Bible study group. He takes his turn making eyes with each lady until they smile at him. Then he giggles and flirts a little more.

Oh, that smile.

This boy.

So much sweet, it kills me.

He just pitter patters around, finding things that peak his interest.

FOOD. ALWAYS peaks his interest.


All of it. Any of it. Whether it's his or whether it's not. He begs, he smiles, he pulls out all his cute, little stops, just for one bite. And he usually gets it....because, he's a very convincing little beggar.

He can easily out eat his brothers. 

And still loves EVERYTHING.

He is also my big helper in the kitchen. He loves to empty out my cupboards. Rummage and disperse whatever is within his grasp. he hands me silverware when emptying the dishwasher, and helps unload his new diapers.

Always with a smile, always.

His absolute favorite thing to do though, is yank out my computer cord. Over and over again, every day, every night. My poor computer is going to die a slow death due to this. Once, in an attempt to get him to stop, I raised my voice and said "NO" a little too sharply. His lower lip.....oh, that lower lip went out, and he looked at me with giant eyes that began welling with tears. He doesn't like to make his mama unhappy.

He popped two more teeth through, and I think, no, I am hoping and praying....he is working on two more. Our nights have been so rough. So little sleep. So much unhappy, that some nights I didn't recognize the little boy I was trying to convince to just go to sleep. Although, there was that one night where he cried, and cried, and cried. i got him up and fed him at least 20 times in 20 minutes, because that was the only thing that would soothe him. After one of the feedings, I pulled him up to my chest to attempt to put him back to bed. The second his head hit my chest, his body fell into a complete abandon sleep. He lay there on my chest like a newborn baby, all limp-armed and cuddled. I sighed deeply, and contemplated just letting him stay...but it was 4:30 in the morning, and this was after a 3 hour sleep battle. So, I went against my my want and put him to bed.

He is walking. Every where. Crawling is still his main mode of getting around. But he pulls himself up on anything and just takes off. He walks in bitty, baby steps. Sometimes I think I'm going to turn my head and the next thing he will be off skipping and running.

I think this is all because he heard me whisper in his ears when he was just days old, "stay little, stay with me awhile longer...."

He's determined to grow up, and fast. And I don't think in my heart of hearts that I'm quite ready just yet. I'm still trying to cling to these last days of his first year.

Still trying to cling to the lasts of him needing me so much (even if it means getting up umpteenth times during the night) Him slathering me with his sweetness and making my mama heart feel like a puddle in his pudgy little hands. The way he stops crying the SECOND I walk in his room to get  him, and how his tears can turn to smiles like the flip of a switch.

He gets me. What I need, how to love me. Yet, I feel him pulling away in the slightest of ways,he wants so desperately to grow up. And I so desperately don't want him to. I don't want to lose the softness he brings to me, and I fear that all will disintegrate as he moves into toddler mode. I realize more with him how little time I have left of this stage.

Gah, little baby boy. My heart, my heart.

So, I savor it. I do. I try, at least.

 ONE, really? So soon?

I love you so much. You chill little cucumber, you.

I suppose, I will stop begging you to stay little and try to embrace you growing....I guess.

Guess I better start finishing up the touches to your first birthday party, because i'm going to wake up and it will be tomorrow. You little stinker.

Guess, we won't get to carry you round like this much longer.....judging from the look on your face, I'm betting you aren't very broken up about it either.

But I'm already missing it, if that is even possible. Already, my arms ache for the time back.

But forward we must move. 

Happy 11 months, my little sweetheart.

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