Friday, August 9, 2013

My Last Baby

Caking eating, in four parts
When I was pregnant, people would ask, "is it your first? Your second?" And with a laugh, I would reply, "this is my last."

But all joking aside, we hoped, dreamed and planned to be a party of four, so Connor is our last baby—and I can't believe it, but he turned one year last month.

Oh Little Connor, {as Liam calls you}

I feel myself trying to slow down to enjoy everyday moments. You are in too much of a rush to grow and I shouldn't try to stand in your way, but I'm having a hard time letting go because after all you are my last baby.

The first time we met, I felt my heart explode. It was such a calm birth, very unlike when we welcomed your brother—the nurse put you on my chest and you were already so chubby, a little ball of perfection. I remember feeling a moment of peace and knew our family was complete, who knew there could be so many true loves in my life—your Daddy, your brother and you, my last baby.

The early weeks were tough on all of us, you screamed until you were purple, morning and night, there was little we could do to comfort you. But in time {and with specialized formula,} we saw your first smile and discovered you were actually a happy guy who was desperately trying to greet the world with smiles and laughter, my last baby.

You meet each moment with the wisdom of someone who has been here before and doesn't want to waste time on the mundane, like pureed food or baby toys. You are always ready for the big time, waving dimpled hands in the air demanding to be adored, my last baby.

You may be the world's fastest crawler, we even had to fashion kneepads out of Daddy's old socks to protect those pudgy knees. And now you're not only walking but running, totteling around like a unhinged tilt-a-wheel squealing with delight, my last baby.

But you have yet to sleep through the night and you throw the most wall-melting tantrums I've ever seen, which has me terrified for the terrible twos or threes, hurling yourself onto the floor and wailing at the mere mention of the word "no." It would hurt my heart if you didn't look so absurd, your little face sneaking peeks between tears to make sure we're watching, my last baby.

You haven't spoken any words yet, but you chat all day long, parroting everyone's inflections. And when you achieve a great feat {like climbing onto your brother's bed} you bellow the longest, wildest scream and bang on your chest like a warrior, you're our own personal champion for trouble, my last baby.

I still rock you and sing softly because I know the time will come when you won't want your Mommy to lullaby you to sleep, so I cuddle and coo with you, even at 3AM, savoring your sweetness, my last baby.

When you laugh, we can't help but crack up. When you cry, our hearts break too. When you smile, you light our world. And as you grow, we feel our family strengthen.
There are still so many more firsts for you, and lasts for us to enjoy. And we can't wait to celebrate each and every one of them with you, our last baby.

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