Today was a big day for Little Man. He rolled over from his back to his tummy for the first time AND he started sitting up for extended periods of time. All on the day before he turned six months (probably just so he could say he did it before he was six months old)!
It was neat to see him grow up in what seemed like just one day. I’m really proud of him (of course) and I’m excited to see what comes next.
But, as I was running an errand tonight, I thought back on the day and got a little choked up. One thing I’ve noticed over the past day or so is it’s harder for me to make him giggle and laugh. We still have fun and he does laugh, but I’ve noticed that it’s happening just slightly less. He’s also more interested in toys than he used to be. Now, with him sitting up and rolling over, all the things that were old hat before seem like new things.
In a way, I’m glad for this new perspective of his. I definitely want him to grow up and be his own man. I definitely want him to make his own way and be independent.
Until tonight, though, as I fought back those tears, I didn’t realize how much I treasure that look of pure excitement and joy when I come home or play with him. I treasure being his main object of focus at all times, with his mom, of course. It’s not that I don’t still get that, because I do. We still laugh and play and giggle together. But he’s just a little, tiny bit more distracted by other things than he used to be.
And I know that little bit is just the beginning.
There are toys and friends and cars and bikes and games and I can be a part of some, perhaps most, of those, but never to the extent that I’m a part of his life now.
I’m so proud of his little steps that he’s taking (figuratively, of course). I guess I didn’t realize, until tonight, that I wanted to be there to see each and every one.