Lasts

This has always been a pretty light family journal. I've chronicalled Mattie's picky eating, our first big purchases, my dislike for public transit, etc. but occasionally I'll write something serious since it is our family journal. 

This month has had a few lasts that I didn't expect. We are firmly in the phase of "Firsts" so when he last wears a jammy that's now too small, or doesn't sleep in our room any more, it takes me by surprise. I cried a little packing up the newborn clothes. They were his first, and now they are in a box. 

He's becoming more and more independent, which is good for growth but so hard on my heart. I guess I figured nine months in, nine months out before he could crawl away from me. While that's mostly true, his little milestones, like losing his baby hands or bald head, are all reminders that time marches forward even if you try to fill its boots with sand. 

This month, April, also marks my last few days of my leave. I'm struggling with thinking about the last few afternoon naps together. The last noon park walks, and the last time I'm the primary caregiver Monday through Friday. I know so many awesome working moms, but it just hasn't felt natural for me yet. 

I equate babies with campfires. When you go camping, everyone seems to be content just starring at the fire for hours; watching it dance in the darkness. Abstractly, it's not the least bit entertaining, but in person, it's mesmerizing. That's how Henry is to me. I could watch him do nothing for hours, just memorizing his little hands, nose, and eyelashes. I'm not ready for my last 7-day-a-week campfire session. It's about two weeks away, and it's been the hardest "last" so far. 

I'm guessing my whole life I'll be working on letting go and embracing change.  Having Henry just amplified my workload.