Weston is 9 months old today & so I am doing some navel gazing & contemplating the past several months. My how things change!
Some things are much easier. Being able to feed everyone basically the same foods, giving the kids a bath together, watching them play & genuinely enjoy each other. Setting Weston down & knowing he can sit & crawl on his own. Asking Reese to help, having her entertain her brother (a task where she excels).
Some things are hard. Weston has 8 teeth. Sharp little razors embedded in his mouth, making nursing almost impossible (I'd love any advice on weening an older baby; do I start in with the yogurt/whole milk mix or do I have to push formula, which he hates? I'm pumping again but don't want to do this pump-bottle process for 3 months even though it's
so much fun). Putting him down & realizing he's shot halfway across the room and is trying to shove fistfuls of dog food in his piehole. Still not sleeping through the night. Dealing with Reese & her outbursts, which I know mean she feels like she isn't getting enough attention.
It's such a balance. A constant wave of shifts & changes. Harder & easier all at once.
And then I look over & they're sitting together on the floor, belly laughing at the Backyardigans, and I think: when did that happen?
How & when did they get so big? And of course it takes my breath away, makes me laugh all at once....and I feel the very slightest twinge of sadness as they pass into the next phase together....
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