The Last Days of Babyhood

It's taken me a few days to post the video of X-Man walking, so he's really gotten up to full speed now. It's as if he never crawled, and he's never looking back.

I'm grateful for this next step in his life, not only because it is a great advancement for him, but because it has been a good reminder for me.

The last few weeks, I have dreaded nursing X-Man. Something has got his diaper in a bunch, so he's been doing marathon sessions, with four sharp, tiny teeth bearing down, and screaming if I don't let him get his fill. Every night, around dinner time -- when I'm daring to cook and eat myself -- he stands next to me and cries pathetically, wanting to nurse.

So I sit in his room, in the dark, rocking in an uncomfortable chair, feeling like a prisoner for 30 minutes two to three times a day. I try praying for a while, or listening to the radio, but it still ends up being somewhat of a penitential practice. I keep thinking about everything that needs to get done around the house, and everything else that I'd rather be doing.

But then God gives me a gentle nudge, as usual. Since X has began to walk, a little voice in my head has been saying, "Look at your son. He's not a baby anymore. He is becoming more of a little boy every day. You will not nurse him forever; probably just a few months or weeks more. And you might even miss it when he's done. So stop wishing your blessings away!"

Thank you Lord, for these last few times that I'll hold his warm, little lithe body in the dark. Thank you for giving me the ability to nourish him and help him grow into a little boy. Thank you for this time we share alone, with no other distractions. Thank you even for little teeth that clench me, and a little voice that screams because he needs and loves me that much.