Everyday is something new and exciting when you have a child. I only wish the time would stop flying by.
My first child seems like a miracle in the way he has blossomed from an awkward newborn to a beautiful boy.
Already a year old, he is no longer a little baby. He has started to break away from the protection of my arms and venture into the world, curiously exploring. Each syllable out of his mouth brings us closer to communicating.
He says “Dada” fluently, but I am patiently waiting for my name to be called.
The few steps taken now will soon be a quick and confident sprint carrying him on adventures. I am amazed by the way he watches me, soon to mimic the things I say and do.
Learning to get down from the stoop at the front door, he lies on his belly and squirms his way backwards. He knows the floor is there but he can’t yet find it. My husband and I grasp at the opportunity to come to his rescue. But soon he will conquer the stoop and many other things on his own.
And I know if I do a good job in teaching and caring he will continue to blossom into a handsome and intelligent man.
As I watch those around me care for their children I know that being there and supporting them is all you can do. But as I do these seemingly simple things I start to love him more than ever before.
He is turning one-year-old but I know there are many more years to come. I just want to be able to enjoy them all, the way I have the first one.