Our baby boy is six months old today.
Half a year.
I thought I would have a whole book full of eloquent things to say about the passage of time, how amazing it’s been to see his personality emerge from small moments of recognition to something quite like a sense of humor, or even the fact that he’s learned to ignore us when we leave him with his Grammy because he knows we’re going away.
I was sure that I would talk more about his developing eating habits – the peas he tolerates and the sweet potatoes he can’t do without, or the funny look he gives me when he eats the apples that look just like the pears. I figured I’d share a laugh about the chomping face he does whenever he watches one of us take a bite of food.
But half a year…and I find myself nearly speechless.
The small bundle I could (just) hold in one arm has become a little person who laughs, stands, and is already half as tall as his GG and three times larger than he was at birth. He is funny, inquisitive, and so full of innocent joy that it breaks my heart to watch him even as it fills that same heart to the top.
My sweet boy, who will very soon sleep in a bed all his own and have teeth and say words, and walk and run and one day call me “Mommy”…and then, one bittersweet day, just “Mom”.
But today he is still a baby, and today I will hold him and remember the wonder of our first moments together.
Happy half birthday, Arthur.