Davis is approaching his eleven month birthday. Then, it will be only a month before we reach that magic number – 12 months. That’s the magic number because it seems as if babies lose all their fragility at that time. They can do big kid stuff like drink real cow’s milk from a cup, eat all kinds of grown up foods, walk, talk, and do all the things that would have caused them to spontaneously combust if they had done them at 11 months and 30 days. As his one year old birthday quickly approaches, I can’t help but wonder what has happened to the last year. It seems like just a couple of months ago, I was enjoying chocolate pop-tarts and ice cold milk while trying to find my feet. Unbelievable.
Right now, Davis is sleeping soundly in his crib which affords me a moment to sit and relax. When he’s awake, there is only time for play, play, play. As I walked out of work today, the chilly air hit me and rain sprinkled down. A woman standing at the back door having a smoke break looked at me and said, “I wish I were you. This is the perfect weather for you to go home and take a nap.” I laughed and replied, “I have a 10 month old at home. There’s no such thing as a nap.”
Davis requires my full attention. When I am cooking, it is sometimes difficult to give him my full attention. He stays right by my feet and plunders through cabinets while I prepare dinner. A few nights ago, he was rearranging my pots, skillets, and sauce pans as I prepared one of our favorites – Mexican. I was stirring the black beans when I heard a crash and spun around to find my glass cutting board in a million pieces all over the floor around me and my child. Davis looked up at me like he was in shock. I yelled for Tracy and luckily Tracy was able to snatch him from the midst of the mayhem before he moved a muscle.
Last night we took Davis to the pool. He is such fearless little creature. I hoped and prayed that if we ever had a child, he wouldn’t be plagued by fear the way his mother is. However, I didn’t pray for a daredevil. At the pool, we put him in his floating boat and he tried to leap out. He actually went face first into the water. Luckily I was right there and caught him. I don’t know if I have the nerves for raising a boy. I imagine God is having good laugh as I am challenged to let go of some of my fears and just embrace the chaos that is raising a little one.
I wonder if girls are different. Like, do they try to dive over the end of the couch or off the bed like stuntpeople? Or do they just sit in their pretty pink outfits and behave like little ladies. I fear that with Davis, my fun-filled, freaking out adventures are just beginning.