Mommy’s First Christmas
Lukas is seven months old now and I just can’t believe it. On the one hand, it seems like we have been through so much together already … reflux and colic, breastfeeding and formula, checkups and shots, teething and real food. But on the other hand, it seems like just yesterday I was crawling out of bed every two to three hours to soothe, comfort, and feed. Like just yesterday he could barely lift his head.
And today? He has TWO teeth! And he rolls and lifts and pulls himself up with the best of them. He loves to sit and play with his toys … as long as he thinks you are behind him. If he notices that you are not there to catch him, he topples over. Silly guy! His seemingly endless cries have turned to mostly giggles and guffaws. He laughs hysterically when I kiss his tummy and when daddy makes funny faces. He still loves bath time. And his activity center. And his playmat. He babbles and talks to anyone (or anything) that will listen. Da-da-da-da is a common phrase, but sadly, we’re still working on ma-ma.
So I guess you would not be surprised to hear that baby’s first Christmas was a joy for all of us. Lukas enjoyed opening gifts … and eating the wrapping paper. Mommy spent a fair amount of time picking soggy bits of paper out of his mouth, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.
It is strange how his addition to our little family has changed our lives. I can’t say that we felt incomplete, or like our lives were missing something before he was here, but there is a definite sense of “whole” since he has joined us. When he is playing, engrossed in the fine details of a special toy, I sometimes take a minute just to look at him. Wow. I can’t believe that he’s here and he’s healthy and he’s so perfect. It sure was a lot of work, but it was all worth it.
And then he spits up all over his onesie, or poops down the leg of his sleeper and I am no longer free to daydream. But as I’m changing his diaper, or his sleeper, or his shirt, I’m still content. It’s still worth it.Explore posts in the same categories: Motherhood