Friday, August 1, 2014

To Remember

This baby, this little Charlie of mine, is growing up right before my eyes. At 6 weeks old, he's already lost his newborn look, has outgrown all of his newborn and most of his 0-3 month clothes, and is dangerously close to needing size 2 diapers. While I am thrilled that he is growing healthy and strong, and we can't wait to see who he becomes, I'd be lying if I told you I didn't mourn each new milestone just a little bit. I love tiny babies, and already, my baby isn't tiny anymore. (In fact, he's probably pushing 12 lbs, if not more!) And please forgive me if you find this post overly sentimental- this blog has become a journal of sorts over the years, so even if no one reads this, I'll probably read it and cry in a year or two!

There are so many things I want to remember about my tiny Charlie. I want to remember his cute little chin quiver; it almost looks like he's chattering non-existent teeth. I don't know why he does it, but the first time I saw his chin quiver, I realized I recognized that movement because I had been feeling it in the womb!

I want to remember his cute little grunts, coos, and noises. I don't know that I've ever had such a vocal baby- I've been woken up in the middle of the night to hear him grunting in his sleep! My favorite are the little coos he makes sometime when he's sleeping and I'm holding him; he almost sounds like a purring kitten. And this morning he was sleeping in while I was getting ready, and he was giggling in his sleep. I nearly died of cuteness.

I want to always remember the feel of Charlie melting in my arms while I'm holding him. He is the cutest, cuddliest little squishy baby, and everyone who holds him comments on how he just melts into their arms. Frequently when I'm holding him, he pops upright to  look straight at me and studies the world around him with intense interest. I'm especially loving having him in the baby carrier, close to me. We get this chance a lot since he hates his carseat with the fire of 1,000 suns, and won't tolerate sitting in it even for a quick trip to the grocery store. I am becoming an expert at buckling him up in the carrier one handed, and he is an expert at falling asleep on my chest and gathering compliments from perfect strangers about how adorable he is. (Look at those rolls! And those cheeks! I want to eat him up, daily. In a non-weird, non-cannibalistic way, of course.)

I want to remember every funny facial expression, and especially his sweet open mouth miles that are coming more and more frequently. He has the best scowl that comes complete with a wrinkle on his nose. And the puckered up lips and blissed-out, milk-drunk expression when he finishes nursing is the best. And the baby smiles, first thing in the morning, at diaper changes, and at random in the middle of nursing sessions,  are the reward for everything, I tell you.

I want to remembers his baby soft, crazy curls when he gets out of the bath.They only last long enough for me to know that he's gonna end up with curls just like his brothers. And I'm sure that in a few years, we'll have a hard time remembering that Charlie's hair was ever dark, because we can already see a lot of blond poking through.

I want to remember nursing him, everywhere and anywhere. My poor fifth baby has done an excellent job of fitting into our existing chaos, but it also means that he gets carted around everywhere, and has been nursed in the movie theater, the swimming pool, the school lunch cafeteria, church, countless parking lots, outdoor concerts, McDonald's playland, and many a doctor or midwife appointments among other strange places. I can gauge how fast he's growing by how he fits in my arms while nursing. I can still support his whole body with one arm, but that ain't gonna last for long.

Dear sweet baby Charlie, can you just stay little, for just a bit longer? You are truly the best blessing that we didn't know we wanted.

Related Posts with Thumbnails