Sweet Spot

Jameson (Jamie, Jamers, Jamie Boy, Jamie James, etc.) will be one in just two weeks. One year ago to the day, I was released from bed rest just in time to celebrate my birthday the following day. And then I spent the happiest two weeks of my entire pregnancy doing birthday stuff (presents!) cleaning and nesting, snuggling the older kids and doing last minute baby shopping. I still smile remembering that time- SO different from the end of my first two pregnancies, when I was counting down every minute, so miserable and ready to be done! Physically I was still quite uncomfortable this time, too, of course, with swelling feet and heartburn and constant contractions, all that fun stuff. But by that point I just expected it, and I knew not to think I was in labor at every twinge, so I tried to just go with the flow. I was so happy, and so mellow, that I could hardly even wrap my head around it when it was, in fact, time to have that baby!



Jamie has totally entered my very favorite stage of babyhood, possibly even of childhood thus far in my experience: from about ten months to about eighteen months. Still completely a baby, with nommable cheeks and chunky thigh folds and all that, but with so much blossoming personality as well, and just enough independence (can crawl/walk around! can feed self a cracker! can hold a cup!) to make those times when they DO want to be held and cuddled that much more special. But, again, still totally a baby in terms of size, so those special holding times aren't too taxing on Mama's arms yet. And and AND- sleeping through the night, most nights! This might be the best part. Babyhood is so much more enjoyable on a full night's sleep, amiright?



He's crawling everywhere, pulling up constantly, and occasionally squatting on those wobbly little thighs and ever so slowly rising to a stand all on his own. When this happens, he looks around in bewilderment, almost as though his muscles are propelling him upwards independent of any conscious mental decision. Which I suppose very well may be the case. Bodies are often doing things without express permission from the brain, in my experience. For example, despite being back to pre baby weight, my body seems to have slowly sculpted for me, as an early twenty-seventh birthday/ welcome to your late twenties present, a matched pair of dimpled saddlebags. Thank you, aging genes. Clearly you know best.