Clearly, by the looks of this blog, I have not achieved Super Mommy status. Time, oh, Time. Why have you abandoned me?
Oh wait! You haven't!
I remind myself every day that Time IS our friend. Time is MY friend but it goes so quickly... Seems to just run by me as if on some great marathon, against the clock. Pushing, demanding, urging me to do more.
Oh, blog, how I missed you.
I can't believe that Sol is 14 months. The itty bitty tadpole looking thing that I so graciously hosted in my body for 274 days, is a mini man. His thick, black, wavy hair has morphed into a golden bronze afro. His long skinny legs have evolved into long, chunky munchkin limbs, with ever evolving "cuts" bearing testament to the strong muscles beneath the layers of milk and sweet potatoes. His smile remains, prompted only by his inner world, or a satisfying interaction with any one of the many people he initiates contact with daily. He is a whole world. His own likes and dislikes, standards and preferences, to color his young life.
Each morning, he sends me off with a sweet "bye bye". He understands our routine. Once mama grabs her bag, and kisses his forehead, she is going "bye bye". I needn't say a word.
She later returns, plays, kisses, and hugs abundantly until it is time for Scout the dog's nightly lullaby repertoire, the occasional "baba" of milk*, and the last good night kiss. At that point, I typically sniff his little neck, taking in the soft, clean aroma of a perfect being. I snuggle. I hold. I kiss. i tear up at the thought that each day he seems to learn something new in my absence.
Following my momentary melancholy, I beam proudly as I think that this little person is such a bright light for the world. He smiles, he shares, he laughs, he makes kissing sounds, and even hugs on request (if he likes you). He speaks, and understands. In the absence of actual words, he moves his hands to punctuate his thoughts as he babbles something I am sure must be of great importance. He resists being touched when he is not in the mood. He rests his head on your belly or chest, when he feels the need to be close. Just 14 months, and he is an entire universe in motion. [Here I stress "in motion", and remind myself of the random bumps and cantazos my poor baby has endured. Oh, the early walking phase.... when will it be over?!]
So while I may not have mastered the the role of Super Mami, the lovely domestic goddess/mama/wife extraordinaire, I have certainly learned- and am learning-to be the best mother I can possibly be. My son is a healthy, happy child who amazes me every single day of my life. He is amazing, and I am amazed at how much I have learned in so little time. And that, is super.
*Note to all my bottle haters, I will be responsible for making sure that my son's teeth don't rot. he is almost off of the damned thing. (She smiles).
