Everyone says they change so fast. And at this age, they do. It's like lightning. You blink and they've grown an inch. You sleep a night and the next day they're crawling.
(And he's sleeping through the night again, eight p.m. to six a.m. Some nights he wakes once or twice; other nights no wakings until the morning. Up for the day at six and down for his first nap around eight or eight thirty).
Today is day four that Jax is crawling. The first day was three "steps": hand, knee, hand. The next day, about five or six steps before going down on his belly. The third day he wouldn't drop down on his belly when he got unsettled with his rhythm. He'd just stay put, rock back and forth on all fours, then start again. Today, he's beginning to gain speed.
I knew this day was coming. Knew I would be thrilled and frightened. Knew I'd have to go through the house cleaning up any stray thing that could be dangerous to him, or become endangered by him (bins of loose papers under my desk that I need to sort or scan). I was eager for it to come, for Jax's sake. He's spent the last two months trying so hard to learn to crawl. Getting so frustrated and crying and fussing when he couldn't figure it out but just KNEW there had to be more to life than belly spinning and rolling.
I know how my feet look when I've walked around the house barefoot, and I'm trying to figure out how many times a day is reasonable to wash that greyish black crud off his hands. Or how many hours a week I should spend scrubbing the floors.
I figured I would be picking up papers and cables and cords and lint and food scraps, trying to move out of his reach anything I didn't want to find in his mouth. That's what I figured he would go for.
But he surprised me. No matter where I put him down, no matter what interesting things I give him to play with, or what interesting things he finds, he always crawls the same way. Toward me. Then he fusses and feuds at my feet until I pick him up.
He might entertain himself for two minutes, or perhaps five, but then he realizes that I've moved across the room to my desk, or walked into the next room to fold laundry, and here he comes. One little hand followed by one little knee, slow and painstaking, following the sound of my voice or my visible body. Until I look down from my chair at the computer, or see him down by my ankles after making his way from the living room to the bedroom, and hear his adorably pitiful cries that he sometimes remembers to form into "muh muh."
It's the sweetest thing in the world. It's the tiniest bit frustrating in the smallest, silliest way, (mostly humorous) because why doesn't he want to play with his toys like he used to?! And then it's really entirely endearing. Because chances are, he won't always crawl toward me, or run toward me. There will come days when he's happier playing with his friends or his siblings or his Daddy, and he is content not to be at my ankles, in my arms.
We've worn him in baby carriers since a few days after his birth. He's never been a fan of his stroller. I think he's three days old here. Benjamin wanted to try out our super awesome Bob stroller.
Clearly, Jax was not nearly as intrigued by its awesomeness as Benjamin was. Eventually, Benjamin rolled him around in the rough grass in the backyard enough where it bumped and rocked him to sleep. But it took a while. It wasn't a natural adaption. But this? This was easy. The easiest thing we've ever done with him.
And I realized. We've done something to him.
When our family camped at Inks Lake this summer, Jax was four months old. The park does a bike parade for kids on the fourth of July. Tons of families who were camping, and others who came in for the day, gathered together to decorate their kids' bikes, wear fake tattoos, see the fire trucks, and parade around together for the local media. Benjamin was wearing Jax in the baby carrier. He probably took a nap (Jax, not Benjamin). I remember looking around at the crowd and seeing several babies in strollers. Some were younger than Jax, some around his age, some a bit older. And they all seemed perfectly content to lay in the stroller and look around at all the activity. I remember thinking, "How do they do that? Jax has always hated his stroller. I can't imagine him sitting in there so calm. He always wants to be in someone's arms."
Granted, these babies all have different personalities, and I've know people who've tried to wear their babies, and the babies refuse. They want their own space. But I kept looking at all these different babies, and looking at Jax, and noticing distinctly how different he was. We were. We are.
This connection he has to us. We have to him. It's mutual.
He wanted to be close to us. So we carried him, wore him, let him take all his naps for his first five months of life attached to us.
We wanted to be close to him. So we wore him, carried him, put up with his naps, nursed him to sleep, cuddled him when he woke, tried not to let him cry.
My mom was an retirement home manager when she had me, and her
responsibilites included cleaning and vaccuuming some of the
apartments. She wore me, and I napped in the Snuggli against her heart
too.
And I'm by NO means trying to say that baby wearing is required to be connected to our children. It certainly is one way. And it's a way our whole family loves. I would definitely encourage parents to try it out, as it has many mental, emotional, and physical benefits for babies and their parents. But regardless of baby wearing or stroller pushing or whatever combination that fits a particular family, I think it's vital to stay connected to our kids from the beginning. Whether we work three jobs, or stay home, we can find ways to connect with them. It makes us happier people, it keeps them happier (and when baby's happy, everyone's happy!).
We wore these outfits on Sunday. I wore this dress when I was eleven weeks pregnant with Beta Jax. It was the first outfit photos we took where I was thinking to myself, "Now I REALLY have a baby bump you can see. I'm finally looking pregnant!" I was so proud. I think my post-baby-bump is pretty much the same size now! Except I don't wear empire waist belts to highlight it anymore.
Here's to celebrating our connection. The one we had when he was the size of a grape tomato, floating on the inside of me, and the one we have now. Twenty pounds and getting heaver and more squirmy and more fun with every passing day.
HERS | Dress (pajama) thrifted | Tank Old Navy | Jeans thrifted | Shoes Walmart | Necklace vintage, gift
HIS | Romper (worn as tee shirt) Carters | Jeans mmmm? | Shoes Crocs (I LOVE THESE SHOES ON HIM), special thanks to Tia Priscilla for buying them when Jax was a couple weeks old.
