Babyice is growing up so fast. I’m not even sure that it is okay to call him BABYice anymore (any suggestions?). He is working on popping out his canines and the other day he piped up in the car ‘Cow moo’. He almost has all his teeth! He knows cows moo! (We have since taught him that sheep ‘meh’ and dogs ‘woof woof’) He is so very clever and he makes me so proud every day.
I realized the other day that becoming a parent changes you to the very core. It completely changes who you are. I love watching shows like Criminal Minds and CSI. While I was on leave I had to completely skip an entire episode of Criminal Minds. Before we had Babyice I would have been able to watch the episode with no qualms. The episode was about a woman that went on a killing spree on the anniversary of her child’s death (which also happened to be his birthday). On that fateful day they were involved in a car accident and she was pleading with the paramedics to help her son, she was trying to reach him and couldn’t. Her son ended up passing away and she blamed the paramedics for it. Anyway…I couldn’t watch the episode. It upset me too much. I didn’t realize how much I had changed until I had a problem watching it.
I never really understood what other parents were saying about how their love for their children grows, but now that I have a child, it all makes sense. I miss him more and more every day. I constantly worry about him. Even when we’re at home. If he sleeps through the night and I wake up before him I worry about him being okay. He has been quiet all night. I haven’t heard a peep. Sometimes I go to check (and usually wake him in the process) and sometimes I put my paranoia in a bubble and wait for him to wake up by himself. Before we had Babyice I once said to another parent that their love for their child was like ‘wearing your heart outside of your body’ and she agreed it was exactly like that. I said it, but I didn’t really understand what I was saying, until now.
As much as I love him he can still drive me crazy, annoy me and make me want to smack him. The other day he accidentally head butted me for a second time. I cried. I got up and went to do something else that needed to be done and he came to interfere. I told him to get away from me. I was still upset and Rudi had aggravated the situation and my mood by blaming me for not paying attention (he had clearly missed the fact that I was exhausted and could barely keep my eyes open). A little while later I felt so horrible. I scooped him up and apologized for chasing him away.
Early morning cuddles are the best. Over the weekend before work I took him to our bed to drink his morning bottle and then cuddled with him on the couch while he watched Barney. I try my best not to watch with him, so I just sat and stroked his head and enjoyed being with him before I had to leave. It is very rare for him to sit still, even just for a minute, so it was lovely for him to just relax in my arms for a while.
I don’t think it is going to get any better. I think I will ache for him forever and that I will be devastated when he is big enough to leave me. I suppose then I’ll have to look forward to grandchildren. Oh my. Getting a bit ahead of myself, aren’t I?