Today our little man is three months old! They say the first three months are an extension of womb life-- the fourth trimester. Having now lived through the first three months, I don't disagree. I've never spent less time sleeping, or more time making sure another creature is adequately fed and comfortable.
I've felt really challenged by this job at (many) times. I know people have managed to survive having babies (multiple ones even!?!) since the dawn of time, but I've certainly gained a new appreciation for what it means to exist as a parent.
Lately it seems obvious that Henry is adjusting nicely to life on the outside. His personality is blossoming, and he is a very happy baby. He is constantly smiling, and has the cutest squeaky laugh. He loves being read to, and is an overall amiable companion.
On Thursday he suddenly became an excellent grabber-- very focused and precise. The milestone surprised me a bit. It seemed abrupt. Sure, he had been working up to grabbing things lately, but suddenly he could do it perfectly and accurately. I realized the same will be true of other milestones-- sitting, crawling, walking, etc., and that they will come quickly.
This really struck me, because the last three months have felt endless in their way, and sometimes when I'm tired or overwhelmed I find myself wishing him bigger and more independent. But, he will be... soon, probably before I am ready, and then I'll be wishing him small and cuddly again.
I know this all sounds a bit cliche, in the, "They grow up so fast!," way, but I guess things are often cliches because they are true. In the coming months I'd like to work on being present-minded, and enjoying the ride that is babyhood. I think we are going to have so much fun together... at least until he turns 12 and tries to rebel against me by doing something like dabbling in Republicanism.
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