Motherhood :: Month 11

You guys, it’s July.

I had my son last year at the end of July.

He is almost a year old.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around how that happened, about how that little wiggling sensation in the pit of my stomach is now a fuzzy-headed happily jabbering constantly-growing eating machine that occupies a bigger space in my heart than I ever thought possible.

Just check out that cute little bug!

This time last year, we were holding a baby shower.

Then there was this little nugget.

I can’t get over just how little he was.

Now, he’s crawling. He’s been scooting around for a while, but it all really came together for him last month when we were in Denver.

We got home and frantically babyproofed the whole house.

You guys, they always find something to get into.

He’s also eating everything. Everything. I’m so proud, so stinking proud, of my adventurous little foodie!

If he sees something on our plates he wants, he demands it and devours it. Huli-huli chicken. Cheeseburgers. Grilled peaches. Strawberries. Barbecue pulled pork. Sauteed mushrooms. Broccoli. Artichoke hearts. Lemon breaded halibut on orzo.

The only thing he really doesn’t seem to like is tomato sauce.

It’s been a ton of fun for me to be able to make meals we can enjoy as a family – whole plates for us and a smaller shredded plate for Baby Bean.

It’s forced me to really pay attention to what we’re eating, as well. And Scott and I are both benefiting from eating more cleanly and simply.

I don’t know that I have any particular insights on motherhood now that I have an almost one-year old.

When Marcus came into our world, I felt like I knew nothing about babies.

I still know nothing. Except I’m a pretty decent hand at keeping him fed and changing his diapers and I play peekaboo with him until he snorts with laughter and Scott and I read his favorite books to him over and over and over again and we cuddle him and sing to him and rock him to sleep and he sleeps and somehow this has become our life and I love it.

I’m just grateful that he’s growing up as big and strong as he is {and he’s a big boy, coming in at about 31 inches and 24 pounds right now}, and that we can all sit at our table or in our family room and play and laugh together no matter what kind of craziness is going on in the world.

This is family. We have a family. And I hope I never lose the sense of wonder at that.

 

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