Infinity and OneMarch 28, 2011 at 12:01 am | Posted in Bun | 19 Comments
Tags: Babies, Challenges, Children, Growing Up, Milestones, Motherhood, Parenting, Relationships
He’s 10 months. And change. Closer to a year than not.
He’s getting so big. Moms always say that, don’t they? But, really, he is. He’s got two teeth. He’s standing. He likes waffles and cheese. When the dogs walk by and swish their tails, he cackles like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. And my husband recently taught him to hold his own bottle.
Except, I don’t let him.
He’ll be one in two months. He’ll drink from a sippy cup. He won’t have any more bottles. More importantly, I won’t either. I am savoring it. Each and every last one.
We sit down on the couch together. I place the pillows — the blue one and the brown one — in the arrangement we agreed upon after much trial and error many months ago. I pop the bottle lid off, and he curls his chunky fingers around the lid’s edge. I hold the bottle to his mouth as he rhythmically flexes his toes into my leg and starts to drink.
Sometimes I run my fingers over his blond peach fuzz. Sometimes I gently wrap my hand around his squishy, pink feet. And sometimes I just lean into him and close my eyes, breathing in the heady fumes of Desitin, baby shampoo, and boy sweat.
It all goes so very quickly. Seven or eight minutes, tops. And then he pushes the bottle away, ready to explore as he reaches for the remote, the cat, the pretzel bag, or whatever else catches his eye. But for those few minutes, we settle into the pattern that mothers and babies have followed countless times for countless centuries — mother feeding child. It’s part biology and part bonding, part nature and part nurture.
Yes, it all goes so very quickly — his babyhood, the beginning of boyhood, our rare moments alone. His need for nurturing gradually diminishes, but my desire to nurture him doesn’t. If anything, it grows. Mother raising child — it’s a bittersweet and binding mix of emotions that are as complicated as they are unconditional.
I am savoring it, each and every moment.
What do you miss most about mothering a baby? Do you ever feel connected to the legions of mothers who have come before you? And what mix of baby smells intoxicates you?