Thoughts and thoughts

The Timehop app is a cruel thing if you think about it.

It shows me pictures from January of this year, and my baby is so tiny wrapped up snug in a blanket. He's still colicky in the pictures and I am just beginning a journey of exhaustion that will never end. Oh how I reminisce.

Fast forward (very fast) to an approaching new year and he's so different. He's grown so much, and I'm thankful for that. I'm so thankful that he's growing and healthy, but where did the time go? In the midst of studying, working and crying, I lost those sweet tiny baby times. I didn't appreciate them enough.

I'm really trying to stop worrying so much about Connor sleeping with us and still nursing. I don't want to look back and these times be so far gone that I can only access them through a silly app.

I watch him sleeping, his mouth cracked open and this complete peace on his face, and my heart just keeps growing. It never stops.

He's becoming his own person now and developing his own mischievous personality. It makes me laugh, cry and want to pull my hair, all within a few seconds of each other.

I wonder about when he gets older, when he won't need me, let's be real, or want me all the time, and I'm just not sure how I can deal with that.

Freedom will be nice, won't it? I think it will.
But it's nice having this little person think so much of you that he just wants to touch you and be at your side all the time.

I think parenthood is this constant conflict of emotions. It's like your mind just goes back and forth constantly between wanting to have a minute to yourself and then loving those random break-ins while you're showering.

It's playing peek-a-boo for a split second of him hiding, but loving that adorable smile and belly laugh when he comes back up to see you.

Loving this much isn't something that can be written. It isn't something that can be told. It's just felt and that's it. You can't even compare it to someone, because your mind doesn't know how to put it into words.

It's funny how that works. There are beautiful and magnificent novels written, full of words and ideas, but something so common is inexplicable.

I've heard that it's not instinctual for mothers to love their young. I guess that's true when you think about it, because how can you really love someone you don't even know?

But then again, when this tiny, tiny human looks up at you with eyes full of curiosity and confusion, and you are the only person in the entire world who can make him feel like everything is OK, how can you not love him?

I think people probably get tired of me gushing about how much I love this kid, but every day it changes. Every hour, something new happens and my heart isn't the same as it was the previous hour, or even minute.

So Lauren, what's the point in this post?
I have no idea.

Just like I have no idea what I'm doing. I have no clue how to be a mother. But Connor doesn't care. All he wants is to know that when everything is changing and he's constantly learning new things, he can look for me and I'll be there, cheering him on.

What I've learned so far...again.

As I'm sitting here, listening to the monotony of a Continuing Education course on urinary tract infections, I can't help but want to blog.

Well that's great, Lauren. What do you want to blog about?
Great question.

So much has happened since I last posted, I don't even know where to begin.

Having a toddler is the hardest thing yet, I think. It's nice that we are somewhat better able to communicate with one another, but the kid has SO MUCH energy.

Like, who ARE you?

He goes and goes until he just can't anymore, and I'm over here all, "Can we nap yet?"

I'm shaking my head right now.

He is also learning a little bit more about his anatomy, which is...interesting. I have added a bullet point to my parenting pamphlet that basically says, "Do what you want, it's yours, but don't let anyone else."

I'm hoping he takes that idea through college.

I can't even think about college.
I can't think about preschool.

I am the worst Mrs. Clause EVER. I thought since Baby C was only a year old, I could just throw his gifts in his room and let them be. I mean he never goes in there anyway.

Except now.

He goes in there now.

He loves to play in his room.

He loves to play with his Christmas gifts that are in his room.

Josh finally wrapped them because I'm incapable of wrapping presents, and they are now under the tree. Connor went from trying to ride his gift to trying to unwrap it so he can ride it.

What is wrong with us?
We're so bad at this.
I really hope I don't burn the cookies again this year.

Weaning:

It's not going to happen, ever. I have tried giving him whole milk and he doesn't like it. He likes everything else in the world, but he doesn't like whole milk. He only wants to nurse when he's tired, which isn't often and isn't so bad except for when I want to turn over in the bed. I read this article about weaning a teenager (it was showing how ridiculous the notion is), and I had a mini panic attack. If there is a child who is going to breastfeed in college, it's Connor.

Oh no, there's that college thought again.
I just want to keep him out of jail and off of drugs.
I will not judge him if he chooses not to go to college.
....or if he chooses to major in Philosophy.

Walking:
Why walk when you can crawl really fast?
I don't know, Connor. I just don't know.
He likes to hang on to things and walk, but he doesn't want to walk on his own unless he has a reward in the form of food.

Maybe he does need to be in preschool. Is he spending too much time with Apollo? He is eating dog food...

I'm not too worried about the walking thing. I really think that he will just wake up one day and do it. That's what he did with sitting up, crawling and pulling up.

Talking:
I'm pretty sure he says "damn." I'm pretty sure I'm a horrible parent because of it. I keep hoping he's saying "down" or "dog" or anything with a "da-" sound. He can say "gone" when he drops things, which is adorable, and I think he says "stop" because he hears it so often. But of course my favorite
word is "Mamamamama."


So after all of these brilliant observations, I lie in bed with him at the end of the day and he snuggles up next to me, and I realize how much he's actually grown. Then I hold him a little tighter, kiss him a little longer and thank God for giving me a thriving, absolutely perfect baby boy.