I can't believe I have a one year old. Not a newborn. Not an infant. A freakin' one year old. Everyone I know and every stranger I've met in the last 12 months said to me at one time or another "oh enjoy it while you can, it goes by so fast!" It's true, life really does go by fast. Add something that consumes every ounce of your energy for so long, and it goes by even faster.
I am in awe every single day. I'm in awe of my perfect little boy who is so innocent, happy, silly, and loving. Watching him develop from a tiny six pound baby to an outgoing busy boy who never stops moving, playing, or jabbering makes my heart so happy. I am obsessed with the kid if I'm being honest. When I'm at work during the day he is in every other thought that crosses my mind. If someone asks me how he is my face just lights up with joy when I respond.
It's also still very surreal to me that I'm a mom. I always pictures myself being a mom but I had no idea what that actually meant or would look like. I never imagined it being the way it is. I still consider myself a "young mom" at the age of 32. I don't feel old or like having Theo has aged me (although I'm sure I'll feel differently about that sooner or later!) and that is a surprise in and of itself if you listen to other moms talk about how much their children have aged them.
When I think back on the first weeks at home with Theo compared to now I just can't fathom how fast time has gone. Those first few weeks seemed to drag on forever. They were almost never ending. The days ran together with the tears and milk and pee! I questioned my ability to handle a newborn and the more sleep deprived I became the more I questioned. It didn't stay like that though. That was just a chapter, as they say. After my mom visited for the first time, when Theo was a few weeks old, I realized how hard it really, truly, is to be new parents without family or friends close by to help.
When I went back to work after 12 weeks of maternity leave, shit got real. I cried the first day we left him at daycare. I cried the whole way to work. I was glued to the computer watching him on the camera and crying because he was crying. I was sending message after message to the teachers about what to try and what he liked and didn't like. I picked him up early and when I got home I held him as long and close as I could. That first week was a lot of tears and second guessing and worrying. But it also made the evenings after work so much more to love forward to. The days were still long and the nights continued to be longer, but I felt less crappy about myself. I had the distraction of work.
Eventually that distraction became stress. I was constantly planning around when and where I could pump. I pumped in the office. I pumped in my car while I was driving. I pumped in a Starbucks bathroom. I pumped in the parking lot of more than one Target. Every morning I had to pack Theo's bag, my work bag, my lunch, my pumping stuff, and remember my purse and sanity. It got to be way too much baggage, literally and figuratively. But it was worth every ounce of milk that I froze and Theo enjoyed until he had h is very last bottle of breast milk on week ago (I found a surprise bag in the bottom of the deep freeze!!) I became okay with supplementing with formula, and not even hiding it when we were in public. I was okay with answering "no" when everyone I did and didn't know asked me if I was breastfeeding. I made peace with my decision to exclusively pump and take the stress and anxiety away from both me and Theo. I did eventually miss it, to be honest I still do at times.
The first time Theo rolled over on his own, and sat up on his own, and scooched forward I thought my heart was going to burst with love. And then he started to get teeth, and giggle and babble and crawl and eat baby food and becoming his own little person. And then my hart burst again with even more love. When he started to clap and wave and high five (thanks daddy!) and reach for me or his dad when we picked him up for daycare, I didn't think that little boy could get any cuter or anymore precious. But he has. And he does. Every single day that little boy lights up my life. He learns something new, does something new, he dances, and sings, and plays each day. He is constantly amazing me with how smart he is. He truly is the sweetest little boy. He's always so happy even when he's burning up of a fever or has a double ear infection. He loves his puppy dog even though he hasn't quite figured out how to play with him and that his bones are not meant for babies!
He doesn't sleep through the night. He's not in his own bedroom. He still needs one if not two bottles during the night. He isn't walking. He is picky about table food. Has no desire to use a sippy cup. He may not be on other's ideal timeline of development, but guess what? He's happy and he's perfect and he's smart. He will walk when he is ready to walk. He will sleep through the night, in his crib, in his room, when his mom is ready (hahahah!) In the meantime I will rock him as long as he wants to be rocked. I will hold him as tight as he wants to be held. I will kiss all of his cheeks endlessly. I will be his cheerleader forever and ever.
I'm not sure how year one with Theo was the shortest longest year, but it most definitely was. Cheers to year two with my angel boy Theo Conner.
I am in awe every single day. I'm in awe of my perfect little boy who is so innocent, happy, silly, and loving. Watching him develop from a tiny six pound baby to an outgoing busy boy who never stops moving, playing, or jabbering makes my heart so happy. I am obsessed with the kid if I'm being honest. When I'm at work during the day he is in every other thought that crosses my mind. If someone asks me how he is my face just lights up with joy when I respond.
It's also still very surreal to me that I'm a mom. I always pictures myself being a mom but I had no idea what that actually meant or would look like. I never imagined it being the way it is. I still consider myself a "young mom" at the age of 32. I don't feel old or like having Theo has aged me (although I'm sure I'll feel differently about that sooner or later!) and that is a surprise in and of itself if you listen to other moms talk about how much their children have aged them.
When I think back on the first weeks at home with Theo compared to now I just can't fathom how fast time has gone. Those first few weeks seemed to drag on forever. They were almost never ending. The days ran together with the tears and milk and pee! I questioned my ability to handle a newborn and the more sleep deprived I became the more I questioned. It didn't stay like that though. That was just a chapter, as they say. After my mom visited for the first time, when Theo was a few weeks old, I realized how hard it really, truly, is to be new parents without family or friends close by to help.
When I went back to work after 12 weeks of maternity leave, shit got real. I cried the first day we left him at daycare. I cried the whole way to work. I was glued to the computer watching him on the camera and crying because he was crying. I was sending message after message to the teachers about what to try and what he liked and didn't like. I picked him up early and when I got home I held him as long and close as I could. That first week was a lot of tears and second guessing and worrying. But it also made the evenings after work so much more to love forward to. The days were still long and the nights continued to be longer, but I felt less crappy about myself. I had the distraction of work.
Eventually that distraction became stress. I was constantly planning around when and where I could pump. I pumped in the office. I pumped in my car while I was driving. I pumped in a Starbucks bathroom. I pumped in the parking lot of more than one Target. Every morning I had to pack Theo's bag, my work bag, my lunch, my pumping stuff, and remember my purse and sanity. It got to be way too much baggage, literally and figuratively. But it was worth every ounce of milk that I froze and Theo enjoyed until he had h is very last bottle of breast milk on week ago (I found a surprise bag in the bottom of the deep freeze!!) I became okay with supplementing with formula, and not even hiding it when we were in public. I was okay with answering "no" when everyone I did and didn't know asked me if I was breastfeeding. I made peace with my decision to exclusively pump and take the stress and anxiety away from both me and Theo. I did eventually miss it, to be honest I still do at times.
The first time Theo rolled over on his own, and sat up on his own, and scooched forward I thought my heart was going to burst with love. And then he started to get teeth, and giggle and babble and crawl and eat baby food and becoming his own little person. And then my hart burst again with even more love. When he started to clap and wave and high five (thanks daddy!) and reach for me or his dad when we picked him up for daycare, I didn't think that little boy could get any cuter or anymore precious. But he has. And he does. Every single day that little boy lights up my life. He learns something new, does something new, he dances, and sings, and plays each day. He is constantly amazing me with how smart he is. He truly is the sweetest little boy. He's always so happy even when he's burning up of a fever or has a double ear infection. He loves his puppy dog even though he hasn't quite figured out how to play with him and that his bones are not meant for babies!
He doesn't sleep through the night. He's not in his own bedroom. He still needs one if not two bottles during the night. He isn't walking. He is picky about table food. Has no desire to use a sippy cup. He may not be on other's ideal timeline of development, but guess what? He's happy and he's perfect and he's smart. He will walk when he is ready to walk. He will sleep through the night, in his crib, in his room, when his mom is ready (hahahah!) In the meantime I will rock him as long as he wants to be rocked. I will hold him as tight as he wants to be held. I will kiss all of his cheeks endlessly. I will be his cheerleader forever and ever.
I'm not sure how year one with Theo was the shortest longest year, but it most definitely was. Cheers to year two with my angel boy Theo Conner.
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