She’s eight months old today. She sits, she laughs, she loves it when her grandmother and grandfather pick her up in the afternoons, and she loves to steal her spoon when I’m attempting to feed her. She does not love her car seat.
I never really understood when my friends with babies would talk about wanting to freeze time…freeze their babies right where they were…say “time slow down.” As precious as Hartley was as a newborn, I couldn’t wait to see her roll over, start reaching with her hands or sleep more than two hours at a time:)
But something changed a week or two ago. She isn’t completely helpless anymore. It’s hitting me that my favorite part of the day—rushing in to feed her when I get home from work late at night–won’t be necessary soon. And if I’m being honest- it’s probably for me more than her now:)
The baby I prayed for..waited for…soon won’t be a baby anymore…and while I know there are great adventures ahead…time slow down:)
West of the Story 