Whether a combination of the Whole30 diet I started when Leif was 2 months old, or digestive and brain maturity (his not mine haha), being mama to my baby boy is blissful. He’s no longer colicky. He spits up only sometimes. He’s sweet and smiley. He sleeps for wonderful, long 6 hour stretches. I absolutely, positively adore him! Imagine that.

My little hunk of baby meat LOVES attention. Where his sister was content to sit under a play mat for a good 30 minutes, he’s begging for you to talk to him after five.

The little guy will try to strike up a conversation with anyone who will listen. It’s adorable. I’m not kidding, hold him in your lap and whisper sweet nothings to him and he lights up – smiling, sticking out his tongue, cooing – it’s the cutest thing I have ever seen. The. CUTEST.

His chunky baby thighs. His big blue eyes. His sweet personality. I want to bottle his cuteness and sell it, he’s that delicious.

It’s amazing how things can go from being EXTREMELY difficult, to relatively easy, practically overnight. I can do this parenting 2 children thing. Yes. I. Can. And you know what’s c to the razy? I’ve actually been thinking that maybe, just maybe, there might be room in our home for a third child if biology and finances cooperate. Probably not. But maybe.

Earlier today I joked on Facebook that since Leif rolled over today for the first time that we’d be ditching the swaddle and that, as a result, we’d no longer sleep. Well ugh. Little guy napped for a total of an hour today, split up in 20 minute chunks. This was even with a little swaddle action. I paced around so much holding him like a football that I think I may have burned a hole in the rug.

What do I think caused his refusal to sleep for more than a few minutes today?

His recent discovery that he can control his hands. They’re just that cool.

HANDS, people.

When was the last time you took a moment to appreciate, I mean REALLY appreciate, the power of your hands?

Mine have begun to look older. Weathered. Used. I have the first few sun freckles of an older person. 

But my babies keep me young and age me exponentially at the same time.

Last night, when I looked down at Leif in the crook of my arm, and he looked up with eyes that I think will stay blue, a beautiful storm swept color, I wondered…

Baby boy, what kind of man will you be?

Will you be strong?

Will you be kind?

A fair judge?

A wise king?

Will you be an adventurer?

Will you climb mountains?

Or get lost in libraries?

Or both. You can do both.

You can do anything.

I’m so lucky I get to watch you decide, I told him.

That I get to be your guide, I told him.

I am your mama, and you are my boy, and everything is right in the world when we’re together.

And then finally, I whispered the thing I’ve said every day since he was born, I love you little guy, thank you for choosing me.

Related posts:

Weaning Woes 16-Months of magical mess, madness, and music! Two for the Show A Blogging Break, Scary Mommy, & All The Love Little Leif’s Birth Story