Our littlest lad turns 7 months tomorrow. The lament of ‘where does the time go’ and yet, where does it go, really? Seven months. I just want to remember every bit of these fuzzy haired duckling moments, the fledgling ones as he branches out for independence.
Today Reed took a little fall for the first time and I felt devastated. There he was cruising along the bed (I’d let go for once, trying to give him a bit more confidence) and all of a sudden, down he went. I immediately took him in my arms and cuddled him…his howling was very, very shortlived and then he blinked out a couple of tears and was back up wanting to give it another whirl.
I find myself constantly needing to step outside of myself. Alina and Finnlagh are old enough to read on their own and play video games, and my head swivels in a zillion directions all day long… making meals, folding clothes, writing lesson plans, teaching homeschool, paying the bills… I am always just trying to be that someone that they need, even when they might not need me at all. In these moments I am reminded that our littlest someone, the little lad who clings to me like a koala and nurses around the clock, needs me to be an imperfect mama -the mama who will let him shine on his own even when it scares her to let go of his hands.