Wyatt hit his 9-month mark on Tuesday. I've been having some anxiety lately as it has become very obvious to me, painfully so, that Wyatt is not getting any younger. The months, weeks, even days pass so quickly. I suppose it's inevitable. I've been trying to remind myself to just enjoy it instead of lamenting over the fact that this little soul who once was just a distant dream, then a kicking/elbowing/hiccuping/somersaulting bundle of joy in my stomach, then a precious angelic newborn, is now all of a sudden a moving, babbling, interactive, very aware and curious baby. With no signs of slowing down any time soon. I'm not sure I would say that each stage gets "better" than the last, but each stage brings something new that is just so gosh darn fantastic. Both Wyatt & I are growing up together—he as a child, me as a mother, and both of us learning and experiencing everything for the first time together. I would even assume the learning process gets to start all over with every new child. Pure magic, really.
Anyways, I remember Tuesday being kind of a long day. For whatever reason, I was in a funk and/or Wyatt was more restless than usual, but either way I think we were both ready for bedtime to come. Right before putting him in his crib I sat with him in the rocking chair in his bedroom, trying to get in any last minute cuddles he was willing to give. When I asked for a kiss, I could see in his face that he knew what I was talking about. He very intentionally put his little hands where my face meets my neck (aka my jaw...), opened his mouth and planted a big fat one right on my lips. Slobber never tasted so good. He's given kisses before, but I'd be lying if this one didn't seem a bit more theatrical. I loved it.
Aaron has had to be at work late all this week. Wyatt & I have had our evenings to ourselves, just the two of us. After his third nap we've been going out to run some errands, coming home for dinner, and starting the bedtime routine. Last night after his bath and a book, we prayed together. He sat in my lap, perfectly calm and still and content. I had my arms folded across his little folded arms and was very keenly aware of his soft skin, his precious miniature perfect little body, his innocence and purity. I prayed, gushing about how grateful I am that Wyatt and Aaron and I have each other, and how wonderful this life is that we get to create our families and be together forever. (There may have been some pleading for Wyatt to stay a baby for always, but that's neither here nor there.) My eyes were closed, but I could feel Wyatt turning his head to look up at me, and then back down, then back up and back down again. He is only 9 months, but I'm already feeling the welcomed pressure of his ever-watchful eye.
A PHOTOGRAPH OF WYATT, ONCE A WEEK, EVERY WEEK, IN 2014.