Where has the time gone, my sweet little baby boy? This past summer you have changed by leaps and bounds. You began the summer a non-sitter and only able to roll over from front to back. Now, however, you have mastered the art of crawling, you’ve begun eating solid food, you can walk along couches, coffee tables, railings, or anything else that you creatively find to steady yourself as you practice taking tiny steps on your tiny feet. You “talk” more than ever now, and love chatting it up with your sister. The other day I passed the room you two share, and peeked in on a mini concert with Maggie plunking away on her 4-note piano and both of you “singing” loudly and incoherently. It was out of tune and had no rhythm, but it was the sweetest thing I have ever heard.
As I mentioned before, you have begun eating solid foods, and are eager to try most anything we place in front of you (except for applesauce, which you gag on and act as if we’re spooning puréed bug guts into your mouth). A whole new world of food and flavors is now yours, and you are not going to let it go to waste. Nothing is outside your experimental realm, and so nothing is safe from your unclenching fists and curious tongue. Outside flavors intrigue you the most. Leaves, grass, dirt clods, flowers, rocks, sticks, and (your favorite) bark chips from the flowerbed. I intervened the other day just before a little potato bug met his fate in your cavernous little mouth. And intervening is no pleasant task since it involves two sharp new teeth freshly popped through your gums.
You adore your father, which is new to me because Maggie pretty much vehemently detested any grown human other than me until about her fourteenth month of life. But you are your daddy’s boy. You smile and laugh and hug and cuddle with daddy. You love to crawl all over him (especially if he’s laying on the floor- a position which curiously has become more common since he started teaching high school) and when he’s holding you, you’ll climb as high up on his shoulder as you can get, like a little bird trying to find the safest perch. And you are safe, little Cash. You’re safe in your father’s love, and in my love and in Maggie’s. All your family- grandmas, grandpas, aunts, uncles, and cousins, those who are here and those who have past on - we all love you so much. And we will always love you.
You are asleep right now, napping, your blond eyelashes resting on your plump, round cheeks. I watch your breathing, slow and soft, and the thought that comes into my head is “perfect”. I think that word comes to my mind, not because my life is perfect or I’m a perfect mother, or I have perfect children, but because, at this moment, I am perfectly happy. And it’s those perfectly happy moments that make my life so worth it. So thank you, darling Cash.
I love you,