"I did it!" He said it so clearly, raising his arms up with such joy. Three little words strung together never sounded so beautiful. I am not exactly sure what he did, but it had something to do with shoving some toys into a little Fischer Price medical bag and closing it, sort of. Truthfully, he didn't even really do it, the bag was so full of random shaped objects that one could not possibly latch it shut, but that isn't the point.
Evan is communicating, in multi-word sentences. Yes, this has to some extent been going on for several months, but now we can actually understand him. Another milestone. The little guy is growing up. Insert tears here.
He is at an absolutely charming stage. *Almost* everything he does is adorable. The way he points to every cat and exclaims "Wiggy!" (the name of our own beloved kitty), the way he bounces up in down in a pseudo dance move every time music is audible, the way he lights up when you enter a room after being away for a while, it is all so stinking cute. And I realize how fleeting this time is.
A few days ago while attending our first Music Together class since Evan was one, I got overwhelmingly nostalgic. As I held him in my arms, and spun him around while he waved a certainly teethed upon purple scarf I flashed back to Zachary. Zachary and I attended Music Together classes faithfully for at least two and a half years. I felt such pride as Zack took egg shakers in his chubby fists, and my heart would well up as he put the instruments away singing "bum bum!" tossing a tambourine or a rhythm stick into the community bucket. Now here with Evan I realize that I have done this all before, only my first baby is gone. There doesn't seem to be a trace of baby Zachary anywhere.
Yes, there is a child named Zachary running around our house gabbing loudly about shooting bad guys. There is a skinny proud kid who takes "big boy" swimming lessons without mommy. There is little monster who frequently tells me I am mean and that he hates me. There is an inquisitive 4.5 year old who now recognizes all of his letters and draws stick people. There is an energetic preschooler who barely glances in my direction when I arrive to pick him up from class. But there is no baby. Baby Zack is gone. I don't know when he left. It happened so fast.
Truth be told I love my little boy, but I miss my baby. And now as I rejoice in each new accomplishment that Evan achieves it is bittersweet.
Don't grow up so fast baby Evan. Mommy loves you.
Evan is communicating, in multi-word sentences. Yes, this has to some extent been going on for several months, but now we can actually understand him. Another milestone. The little guy is growing up. Insert tears here.
He is at an absolutely charming stage. *Almost* everything he does is adorable. The way he points to every cat and exclaims "Wiggy!" (the name of our own beloved kitty), the way he bounces up in down in a pseudo dance move every time music is audible, the way he lights up when you enter a room after being away for a while, it is all so stinking cute. And I realize how fleeting this time is.
A few days ago while attending our first Music Together class since Evan was one, I got overwhelmingly nostalgic. As I held him in my arms, and spun him around while he waved a certainly teethed upon purple scarf I flashed back to Zachary. Zachary and I attended Music Together classes faithfully for at least two and a half years. I felt such pride as Zack took egg shakers in his chubby fists, and my heart would well up as he put the instruments away singing "bum bum!" tossing a tambourine or a rhythm stick into the community bucket. Now here with Evan I realize that I have done this all before, only my first baby is gone. There doesn't seem to be a trace of baby Zachary anywhere.
Yes, there is a child named Zachary running around our house gabbing loudly about shooting bad guys. There is a skinny proud kid who takes "big boy" swimming lessons without mommy. There is little monster who frequently tells me I am mean and that he hates me. There is an inquisitive 4.5 year old who now recognizes all of his letters and draws stick people. There is an energetic preschooler who barely glances in my direction when I arrive to pick him up from class. But there is no baby. Baby Zack is gone. I don't know when he left. It happened so fast.
Truth be told I love my little boy, but I miss my baby. And now as I rejoice in each new accomplishment that Evan achieves it is bittersweet.
Don't grow up so fast baby Evan. Mommy loves you.
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