Last night, in a feat of excitement and coordination he pulled himself all the way to standing. When I saw him I squealed, and Jay rushed in to the bathroom thinking something was wrong, and we couldn't stop laughing at the sight of our naked son trying so hard to launch himself into the tub.
What is it with this baby? He seems so hell bent on growing up. He's only been crawling for a month, and already he wants to stand? Why can't he content himself with crawling around for another 5 months? He clearly did not inherit this ambition from me. In a recent Skype session with Jay's Mum I learned that Jay walked at 9 months. Great.
I admit that in the beginning I was in a hurry. All Roan could do as a newborn was lay there and flail. Rolling over was thrilling for both of us, and I did everything I could (read: lots of tummy time) to ensure he'd be an early crawler.
But now I am ready for things to slow down. Roan is so much happier now that he is mobile, and I feel like I'm finally hitting my stride with this mothering thing. After a very rough start, we are having a lot of fun. And it's finally sinking in that he won't be a baby forever. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of his face and he doesn't even look like a baby - he looks like a little boy. And I could just cry because he's growing up right in front of me and his world will get bigger and bigger until there comes a time when he has worries and fears that I can't soothe and he'll experience disappointments that have nothing to do with me, and honestly, I don't know how I'll survive the day when I am powerless to erase all his unhappiness by just picking him up, or nursing him. It is so easy right now. He sees me and he smiles. Jay and I are his whole world. When he was brand new, I saw this as a crushing responsibility. At times it felt like a burden. But now, as he gets more and more independent, I see what an honor it is to be so important to another person, so necessary.
I know I'm getting ahead of myself here. Probably I should just focus on some more childproofing.