hey, you. stop growing up so fast.
it's been 7 months since i last posted photos of you. though i take them quite frequently, i hardly have time to blog them. but such is the pace of life today... with three, especially with you and your sister both being so young. life has been whirling by-- whirling! -- i can't stand it -- days whizzing by like bullets and me, observing all that you are and have become and i can't even believe my luck to get to be your mama.
sometimes, when i look at photos of you after you are asleep, my heart breaks into crackling fissures for all the new discoveries i find there in the photos, for fear that i missed them during the day when i was actually with you. and then i will go and peer into your crib, see your rump in the air, knees tucked beneath you, and i'll reach down, squeeze your plump, squishy fingers with my finger tips, or rub your sack-o-potatoes back...
and for just a second, i'll be sad... sad in that my-heart's-so-full, motherly kind of way, sad that trying to take in all the details of your uniqueness and specialness is like trying to observe all of the stars-- you're bound to miss some. there's just So Much Good Stuff, and life is so full, and so fast, and i can't keep up, and there's three of you now, and, and, and..
I'm trying to absorb, to be present, and mirror back to you all that you are, and all the countless ways that i see you deeply and am on this ride with you, right here, right here with you.
so forgive me, little one, if i miss something.
now, you are talking. babbling, really, listening to your own voice, but i like to think that the other day in the crib you said your first word: Mama.
you are standing up really well on your own and attempted one (unassisted) step. your first. but you are making tracks down the hallway with your walker.
you grab everything. everything! out of drawers. off tables. glasses off faces. anything you can get your hands on, you want to touch it, feel it, throw it, and sometimes even still, taste it.
you love to explore and you are superfast. and strong! and sometimes, when you're frustrated, you'll just THROW yourself in adorable exasperation, face down, onto the floor, palms slapping against the hardwood.
here you are lately:
your chubby cheeks and sometimes crazy eyebrow:
the wisps of your hair, which flare out on the sides:
your triumphant moves:
gleaming in the sun, that hair, again:
your strawberry patch birthmark, about to be covered for good by your growing hair until at some future point you might decide to shave your head...
your smirk. the way your toe looks looks like a "thumbs up" symbol:
getting into, under, and behind everything:
and those eyes, which just kill me everytime...
grabbing everything down,
pulling everything out:
your sweet li'l birthday suit:
(your dad thinks your smile is like Calvin's from Calvin and Hobbes, so we got out the book to compare.)
i love you, keats. every day. for the rest of my life. and then some.
thank you for coming into our family.