Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.” ― Mary Jean Irion
Finnegan is almost eleven months old. I keep scratching my head wondering how could eleven months have passed already since the birth of our baby boy? How can this little baby who isn't so new anymore almost be turning into a one year old.
I go into his room to get him in the morning and he looks taller standing in his crib. After I am done nursing him in the evening and I go to place him in his crib, he feels heavier lying in my arms. He is becoming determined to walk, holding on to the couch, to my hands, to the little plastic lawn mower I found at a garage sale for a dollar.
He is so aware of what we say to him now. He understands so much. We ask him to point out the moo, the ball, the dog, the blocks... when we are reading books and he scans the page with his little eyes and then once spotted, he points his little finger at the object.
If we are having a conversation and I mention the word head, or teeth, or nose, I'll look over at Finn and he will be pointing to that body part.
He makes us laugh. All the time. He knows what we think is funny and he'll keep doing it just to make us smile and he smiles too.
The love I have for this boy is indescribable. He is so special. He is so funny.
|first ride in the cozy coupe!|
|those little lips|
|playing in papa's office|
|loves that sweeper|