Things change in the blink of an eye around here. From one day to the next there’s no telling what new thing will catch Baby Guy’s attention, what he’ll grow out of (or into), or what he will start or stop doing. Sometimes there’s warning and sometimes there isn’t.
Last night he slept on his tummy for the first time. It wasn’t all night, but I put him down on his back and he rolled over and stayed that way (you know, after an hour of waking up, yelling for the pacifier, falling asleep, spitting out the pacifier, etc.).
Tonight, and for a couple of his naps today, he’s settled on his side to sleep. It’s a small change, in the grand scheme of things, but my baby is growing up. He’s exercising his newfound freedom of movement rather than passively accepting the sleep position I choose for him. It’s the beginning of the end of his total dependence on me and his dad. I know that sounds pretty dramatic, but it’s true.
I’m finding that parenting pulls me in two opposing directions. On the one hand, being a mom has transformed me into someone who lives, one hundred percent, to be needed by my baby. I’m not saying that there’s nothing else in my life that is important to me, but I’m all in with this kid. He can’t live without me and that’s the most precious, terrifying, and truly exhausting reality I’ve ever experienced.
On the other hand, though, one of the most important responsibilities I have is to train, protect, and pray my son into his own strength and independence from me. That’s a tough thing to think about, because I sure do love being able to hold my little one in my arms and give him everything he needs.
I’m so thankful tonight that my boy needs me now. My prayer is that I’m given the strength and wisdom to care for him in the best possible way, and that I’ll know when and how to let him make his own decisions as he grows.