tuesdays unwrapped at cats
Buddy is building his strength more and more every day. Today he rolled and minimally pulled/scooted his way around our bedroom floor. I find that when I want to have him practice moving, I need to take him out of his room where there are too many toys and books distracting him. He rolled himself over to the full length mirror/closet doors and talked to himself quite a bit. He rolled himself over to the bedroom door and was fascinated with moving it back and forth, back and forth. He wants to move like a “big boy,” I can sense it. And while I am cheering him on to catch up with his peers, there is a little piece of my heart that wants him to stay small.

How we prayed for him to grow, grow, grow… and now, already, just eleven and a half months in, I want time to slow down.

I find the moments I most want to keep are the ones I most likely won’t get on film.

Baby feet swinging from the seat of the grocery cart.
Hiccups after crying in his crib for someone to come pick him up.
Sticky oatmeal-covered fingers in his hair, his eyebrows, his nose from day one of trying out a spoon.
Unrestrained giggles as we “zubba” his belly, arms, and cheeks.
Having my hair pulled, not out of malice, but out of curiousity and the laughter that escapes his mouth when Mama says, “Ouch!”
Middle of the night wake-up calls – the easy ones – where a full belly and a snuggle is repaid with sweet baby snores.

Eleven months old is my favorite age … so far.