Sam is now crawling. Well, I should say that he is covering ground. What he is doing looks more like, as his teacher Zoe says, a soldier crawl. You know the one. Where the soldiers try to crawl under really low barriers and keep their heads down. Needless to say Sam is not particularly quiet, but he is surprisingly fast. It is so hard to get used to his mobility. Ben never crawled. He just walked and not until he was about 17 months old. And that worked for us. We would put him down and then leave the room. And then when we finally came back (sometimes hours later--kidding, I'm KIDDING) and he would be in exactly the same place. Not so with Sam. He can cover twenty feet in no time. And he's only ten months old. Doesn't he know how things work around here? We do not encourage mobility in these parts. In fact, when Ben started walking we would periodically stick out our feet in his path. Just to slow him down a little. Again, I'm KIDDING. Sam is going to need a serious attitude adjustment in order to be a member of this family. We are a truly lazy bunch here. Upstarts and energetics need not apply.
The Combat Crawl
in portraits
and some more I took:
Every Father's Day Josh gets mug with a photograph of Ben on it. This is the first year he got one with Sam on it too.
When Ben was a baby I couldn't wait for all of the firsts. First words, first steps, first "mommy". I just wanted him to grow up quickly because I didn't have the patience to wait to see who he would become. With Sam I find myself wanting him to slow down and take his time. I already see Ben stopping the kisses and hugs and snuggles. Wanting to exert his independence. Getting one step closer to moving away from his mother. And as Sam outgrows each little piece of adorable clothing, I almost mourn for its loss. With Ben, I always knew (or hoped) that another baby would wear these sweet little things. Now I know that someone else will, but that they won't be mine.
Don't get me wrong. I have no desire to have another child. But I can understand how some women begin to want to do it one more time. That is why I am still breastfeeding Sam at nine months. For most moms, this is not very long. For me it is a lifetime. And part of me is so happy that he is the last one I will HAVE to nurse. And part of me is sad that he is the last one I GET to. And so I continue. One more day. And another. And another. Maybe by the time he goes to college I will be ready to wean him.
