Toy Box

It’s hard to believe that my six month old is crawling all over God’s green earth.
Climbing on everything – legs, chairs, couches, benches, crib – everything.
As soon as you set him down he is off, chasing after whatever suits his fancy at that moment.

Sometimes I have to pinch myself.
I am revisiting the preconceived notion that I would have more freedom – to clean, wash dishes, sew, read, blog etc. – once he was mobile. Boy, was I wrong…You can’t even look away for a split second before he’s all the way across the room, getting into something bright and shiny:

I love his spirit of adventure, independence, and discovery. He needs us less and less… and I suppose that will always be the case. I mean, that’s what we want for our children eventually, right? Those are wonderful qualities to have, and necessary to be successful…or at least to live a fulfilling life.
I don’t want him to live with us when he’s forty-two.
But he’s not even two yet. And I am pretty sure we still want him to live with us when he’s two.
Well.
Maybe not two, I hear those are terrible.
But then we’ll move on to three after 365 days of two.
I am getting ahead of myself.
Let’s just work on making it to one first.
Slow down, kid, your mama and daddy want to savor every last minute of you… and your yummy wrinkly baby feet.
Love those baby feet.

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