This baby of mine. He is changing so much. His big toes are slipping over the edge of his size three sandals--yes, those are itty bitty shoes. He's walking like a mime across the walls and furniture--hand to hand--crawling a limp-leg crawl, and talking about "-alls" and "ma ma ma ma" and smacking his lips when I feed him blueberries. He's throwing off his nap schedule because he can't wait to walk and because he hasn't figured out how to sit back down in his crib. He's exasperating his mother, changing up her routine and making her feel inadequate in so many ways. Oh, this baby of mine.
But, I know, that the time goes fast. And I'm drinking in this summer and this season of change and exploration and trying desperately to keep some semblance of perspective.
