The little man is now 8 months old. Sigh. I freshly remember the early days when he still fit in a bassinet and would only sleep in my arms. When he was small enough that I could hold him all day and my arms and back wouldn’t ache. When all he needed was his mama. When his best naps were the ones when he was close to me.
Now, he is too big to fit in his infant carrier, wiggles to get out of my arms and into trouble and is perfectly happy with a rice cake in his mouth.
By the fourth child I should understand that this is the natural progression. They grow up and get bigger. It still amazes me how fast it happens.
Evan should become a chef when he grows up (or a sumo wrestler) because he loves his food! He can’t get enough and we usually have to say “that’s enough!” He still loves his paci and night-night. He laughs so hard when Austin makes faces or noises at him. His smile is the biggest whenever Nathan plays with him. He is mostly sturdy when he sits up and has gotten on all fours a few times. But I’m in no hurry for him to crawl. I am a fourth-time mother after all He has a new found love of toys. But mostly toys he shouldn’t play with. He doesn’t like the dog and makes a nasty face whenever she licks him. He still has only 2 teeth but seems to be working on some more. I keep thinking he would really love to use the old-fashioned walkers on the bottom floor of the house. Although, I also imagine his older brothers pushing him around as fast as they can so I just can’t bring myself to get him one. I wore him in the Moby wrap to church the other day and a friend said “I don’t know who’s wearing who!”.
Dear Evan, stop growing. Thank you, your mother.