We’re at month eleven. The last 4 weeks of baby being a real baby. How did we get here? Everyone said it: “Time is a thief.” “Don’t blink.” “Just wait until they’re 10.” But man, it’s like a sweet gut punch.
So many things are true at the same time. Sajan is thriving - army crawling, walking with assistance, sleeping independently, smiling when mom and dad show affection to each other, loving berries and cheese quesadillas, starting to show signs of an observant and gentle personality. I’m so grateful. However, a part of me years for the days of endless contact naps, swaddles, newborn onesies.
I don’t want to go back in time. I simply cherish this first eleven months. Every day that we have been the center of his world. He’s only going to spend less time with us from here on out - as he goes to daycare and activities, as he expands his circle with friends, as he becomes a real human in the world. As we approach the end of the baby era and the end of our first year as parents, I feel so honored that he chose us. That we get to raise him and we have a new bestie in the house that we get to wake up with every morning.