And now that August is nearing nine months old, I smile just thinking about that poor lady, and then cry a little inside because my baby is still not close to sleeping through the night. It's my fault, really. I got into some bad habits early on and I've been too exhausted to remedy them.
I had such big plans before this baby was born, of what we were going to do as a family of five, how my life wasn't going to slow down one bit, and how this baby raising was going to be super easy because, after all, this is my third child. I think the pregnancy hormones were making me delirious. First child, third child, 15th child, raising a baby is tough. While some things are easier because of experience gained, other things become harder. Each new child brings a new dynamic, and new challenges. But, then again, with each new child, your heart, which already felt so full that it could burst, somehow, amazingly expands to encompass the joy and love that you feel for this new little person, and you can't imagine life without them. You feel as though they've always been a part of your life; and planned or not planned, they are meant to be.
August, at 8 months old you are keeping us on our toes. You are walking with your baby walker, climbing stairs, opening cabinets and drawers, talking so that the whole neighborhood can hear. You are also keeping us entertained. You can clap, spit on cue, give high-fives, and show us how big you are. You love food, and try to eat anything I'm eating, but you still don't have any chompers to chew with. You love to mimic, and play games, pull the dog's hair, and distract your brother and sister from doing their schoolwork.
You are a joy, little boy, a busy, busy joy.
I'll eat you up, I love you so.