In This Moment

Sweet Finley,
Lately, I've been in open-mouthed wonder about how you are changing. It was a few short days ago your Dada and I were coaxing you to roll over. Now, you roll and roll, so much so, if I left the door open, I promise you would roll right out into the front yard. You are aching to move on your own and find wide-grinning joy to be in your Jump-Up. Although it is Winter, we still often find ourselves with a barefoot boy. You love coolness and the cold. When upset, ice on your feet will usually quiet your tears. You, are a funny little boy. While we are on the subject of cold, your first meeting with Snow was this past Thursday. Staring out the window, your eyes took it all in, and your hand rested on the pane soaking in the chillyness. Watching the snowflakes fall made you a bit worried and your broke out your pouty face, which made us giggle. Once again, I forgot to catch that face on camera, but hope to one day capture it in all its lip stuck out, crinkled up eyes, and quivering cheeks cuteness.

As you take in the world around you, you have a serious side, which is a big part of who you are. It's as if you need to make sure all is okay for the moment, then you can relax. Compared to your somber side, your grin is full faced and heart stealing. For now, you save most of your smiles for Dada and me. And, yes, you also have a loud screaming, I want you now side. You have no problem with letting us know if you are upset or finished with your current activity. I'm bracing myself for the headstrong little man you seem you will be and I'm confident God will use that determined spirit for His glory. This past week has been your first experience with sickness. This mean old cold has left you snot filled and with a raspy cough. Your newest (well your only) enemy is one of your oldest, the blue bulb, our nasal aspirator. However, for a little while each day, the bulb has freed your teeny nose from its hard to breathe bondage. The bulb sessions are another lesson for your Momma about how parenting requires strength. A strength that hurts me to see you cry, but in the long run, is better for you. Similar to the struggle to give you time to learn to sleep on your own. This sleep training the past few weeks has been rough. But now? You are falling to sleep immediately at night time, and for most naps. You've even had a great deal of success with waking up this week and weepy crying yourself back to sleep. What a big boy!  Am I already saying "big boy"?  You aren't even six months old!

Each new first is sweet in its own regard, from using your toes as teethers and scooting along the floor to reach a runaway block to the total wild with abandon joy you have when you recognize Dada is home or when you see my face above your crib when you wake.  Your Dada can make you belly laugh and it usually includes a type of movement.  From "shake the baby" to ride the horsie to flying through the air, he is your source of crazy laughter and the culprit of major spit-ups.  Turning the pages of a book to read to you is my definition of fun.  As I read, your chubby hands insist on touching the page and you grab at it trying to turn the pages like your Momma; however, it ends up being more of a ripping the page to pieces possibility.  But, my favorite part of reading books? When you giggle as we turn to a new page. Are you going to be Momma's little book lover?  You amaze me, already. Your deep, brown Momma eyes and your ruddy Dada cheeks have my heart.   As you roll around, you love to blow bubbles and make the, as Dada calls it, motorboat sound.  And, here's a quirky little fact about you:  you can be immersed in play for huge spans of time (we're talking baby time here), as long as your feet have an interesting texture to play with, curl your toes around, or kick.  The past few days these textures have been Charley, your playmat's columns, the crib's slats, the couch's pillows, the tiled kitchen floor, and the tags on any of your toys.

 In the dark of the middle of night, I cherish our conversations.   (No, you are not sleeping through the night, yet.)  You chatter sleepily, with heavy eyelids, expecting me to understand every word. I hear you. Thank you for still being a hungry little boy who needs Momma time. I can sleep later; for now, this is our time. And, earlier in the night, when I sing to you before sleep catches your eyes and closes them, you've started humming along with me. That's how I leave you to chase dreams, humming yourself to sleep.

I love you, Bug.  And, I can't wait to see you grow and grow and grow.