little man

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.

This has never happened before. At least not the way it did today.

It shattered the trust that has defined our entire relationship from the first day.

I suppose I knew it had to happen, but I wasn’t prepared for it when it did.

At first I wasn’t sure we could repair the damage that was done. But, after time, it seemed we would be able to reconcile.

Until it happened again.

Both times, it all happened so fast, I just lost control.

Both times I watched my son slip from my hands and fall…

…about three inches and hit his left temple on the floor. He cried and fussed and since it happened about 10 minutes before his nap, there was no way he was calming down. After Heidi and I both held him for a while we just put him down and he was fine.

But it was a little traumatic for me, since when he has been hurt to the point of crying before, it was always his fault. This time, it was mine, although he did do the lurching. But it was me who didn’t quite catch him in time. Poor little guy. The worst part was the look of fear in his eyes, where there used to be innocence and hope. I hope I didn’t steal some little part of his childhood. It’ll happen some time, just not by me, I hope.

We’re all better now, though, and life is good. He’s napping.