I can't believe our little love will be two months old on Friday. He is starting to grow so much! It felt like he was the same size for about a month, and then suddenly during week 5, he had a major growth spurt and quite literally grew out of his clothes over night. And man, that growth spurt? That was a rough week. During one of his three-hour crying spells, I was bouncing him around in one arm and frantically googling "colicky baby" on my phone with the other hand. Like clockwork, he was back to his normal self at the end of that week. I, however, aged about ten years (and have the gray hairs to prove it).
About a month ago, our friend Joshua came over to the house and took some pictures of Taylor. He also did our maternity shoot and is quickly becoming responsible for any and all family photos we have (outside our iPhones) since my camera has been tucked away the past couple months.
Taylor was on his best behavior, so the shoot went quickly. Joshua did a great job of improvising with the "props" I pulled out (aka the bean bag chair I covered with a sheet...) and caught some really sweet moments for us. He is so talented!
Everyone that sees me with Taylor, whether it's an old friend or a Target cashier, asks me how I like being a mom. I sheepishly admit that I love it and it's so much more fun than I thought it would be. Is that terrible? I knew I would love him, I never doubted that. But I think culture can do a pretty terrible job presenting motherhood. The "mom" character on sitcoms is always exhausted, desperately trying to keep up with her kids and rolling her eyes behind her husband's back at his laughable attempt to parent his children. I remember when I was pregnant, women would always warn me that my life was about to be over. And they're right, it definitely is, but rarely did people tell me how great my new life would be. This might be the iced coffee talking, but I just can't believe how fun being Taylor's mom is.
When I was a nanny, I would count down every excruciating minute of my shift. Watching a four month old squirm around on a play mat was cute and everything, but how many times could you read a cloth book aloud before your brain shut down? (For me, it was about six.) But I have clocked in countless hours just staring at Taylor laying on a blanket. Or sleeping. Or sitting in his car seat. And it's fun!
Of course, there are not-fun days. Of course, he cries. Sometimes I join in. During that growth spurt, I think I mentioned putting him on Craigslist. (Luckily, my mom happened to be home and looking slightly alarmed, offered to take him for an hour and gave me a much-needed break.) But even at the end of a really hard, long day where I can't remember the last time I ate a meal or went to the bathroom, I am in disbelief at how much I am enjoying it.
I love this little darling so much. As he becomes more alert each day, we get to know his personality a little bit more. He has started recognizing and smiling for his dad and his grandparents and thinks being kissed on the mouth is pretty hilarious. He loves hearing other languages and accents! He laughed for the first time when his auntie Kat spoke to him in Spanish and was mesmerized when my friend from Australia spoke to him.
He is still the most serious baby I've ever met and already has worry lines between his eyebrows, but is so playful and vocal first thing in the morning. I'm claiming that as my one and only contribution to his DNA-being a morning person!
Every morning, Matt pulls him into bed with us and I wake up to the two of them snuggling before his alarm goes off. On Saturdays, we lay in bed with him until about noon, trying to soak up every moment of this sleepy-newborn stage.
Our life is so enhanced as we enjoy being a family of three. We don't know what we ever did without him! Sleep more, I suppose.
Thank you, Joshua, for capturing Taylor so well!