Before I proceed, and I will be doing this a lot, remember to follow this here new blog at BlogLovin. There’s also a link in the sidebar. This move to self-hosted WordPress was a long time coming, but Janine from Confessions of a Mommyholic and J9 Designs made it fairly painless and quick for me. I was scared for a long time, and I didn’t need to be. It all turned out just fine.
When I was a baby, my mom kept a baby journal. It would be rude of me to lie and say I ever cracked it open until Des came around. Scarlet? She was easier. She was more general. Everything did and does come easily to her. Des is almost her mirror image in so many amazing (mellow and happy) ways, but he throws me for a loop in other ways. He has more fears than she had.
He’s also more content to stay in one place..
..or at least he used to be. Things have gotten more hectic at home since he discovered climbing. And falling.
Before that, I admit I’d worry about him every now and then. Not in my heart but when I’d see kids his age running around. He hits his milestones and he progresses, but some of my reassurance comes from reading about how I was at his age. On my mom’s side of the family, late walking is four generations deep, that we know about. It hit my Nana, my mom, me and now Des.
These are things I know. These are things I know are ok. These are things I know are ok that I still get caught up in sometimes.
Just because. I’m so good at that.
I don’t always speak these things aloud. They are a whisper in Cassidy’s ear at night. They are a pause when someone asks, “Does he walk yet?” It takes all I can not to scream, “He’s freakin’ happy! He’s not tearing my house apart! I walked at 18 months and my mom at 23 months! Why would I want him to grow up faster than he does when one day I’ll be crying that he’s grown up and gone? This I know. I will one day be crying that he has grown up so fast. Sobbing. So it’s ok that he’s been content to crawl. That he’s freakin’ brilliant. That he hits his milestones and doesn’t worry his doctor and doesn’t worry his father and he progresses steadily, and besides, he has the hair of a two-year-old and good hair comes before walking, I say. And he says great words. And he reasons through facial expressions and touch and even manipulation, knowing that a lower lip pout will get him anything. He can sing, on key, and he calls milk “mick.” He claps his hands and dances and face plants on command.”
I don’t say all of that. I just answer with, “No, not yet. He has time.”
He has time. Certain times are running out. This summer is fading and so is Des’ ability to comfortably crawl. Now he straightens his legs in an almost stand. He’s uncomfortable with crawling alone. He feels in his knees and in his feet and in his head and in his heart that there is something more. Something new. I believe he has feared it, but I believe he will let the fresh, nearly chilly air greet him when his head rises higher than he ever thought possible. Everything runs its course in just the right time.
There’s a lot of room and a lot of years on this earth to run amok. He gets it. I’m starting to get it too..
There’s a place we can go when we want to slow down, or in the very least, we can unplug. (mainly because we have no choice with the lack of wi-fi in the Cape Cod house) We’ve been there once this summer, and we’ll go again before the end.
A little sand in your eyes and ears? Eh, that’s nothing. You can always hide in your neon pink tent.
Or connect with someone pretty darn special.
And this is one of our places to love. For all the unplugging reasons. For the not being rushed reasons.
And the biggest decisions at night are: bluefish or lobster? Indoor shower or outdoor shower?
Some things you just know the answer to. Instantly.