Milestones. They just keep coming. And I meet each one with a touch of sadness.
Little Chunk cut his first tooth today (and gave me his first nipple chomp. Serious ouch.) This is a big deal. Not because it’s so great that he’s growing teeth that will enable him to eat healthy foods and grow big and strong. It’s a big deal because I’ll never see his big beautiful gummy grin again. Never. Well, that’s assuming he has good dental hygiene and his teeth don’t rot out. (We do live in Alabama.) You know what I mean. Each stage comes only once and then it’s gone forever.
He’ll be six months old next week so we’ll start solid foods. Yet another milestone. This means he’ll no longer be an exclusively breastfed baby. His little baby toots will start to smell more, well, grown up. (The husband says I’m disgusting but exclusively breastfed baby gas is pleasant to me. It’s sweet. I know I’m not the only mother that feels this way.) And although I don’t intend for him to wean for quite some time, the start of solids is a reminder that there will be an end to nursing. I cried for days when Big Chunk self weaned at 14 months.
I allow myself to be a little melancholy because having the privilege of raising these children has been the most amazing and fantastic experience of my life and it’s only natural to morn the precious stages as they pass. But I do try to remind myself that the next stage will be just as fun and just as sentimental. Baby smiles with one or two teeth are pretty damn adorable too. And who can resist kissing a fat little baby face all covered in pureed food?
I guess the take away from this is to treasure every single step in your journey of being a mother because it seems like Father Time hits the fast forward button as soon as that baby comes out of your vagina.