ten things I love about you (Simon at 6 months)

  1. I love you, the whole you, the youness of you. When you were teeny-tiny, that’s all I could have said: just I love you. Now I can be a little more specific, break that big feeling down a little more, but the wholesale I-love-that-you-even-exist is still true. You’re like magic, or like the solid form of love and joy.
  2. I love how you pat your hand firmly against me, flat-palmed, so soft and cool. When you’re nursing, you don’t scratch or grab; you pat and sort of smooth my skin, and you catch onto my finger or a washcloth or whatever without actually closing your fist around it, sort of cupping your little hand in gentle exploration.
  3. I love everything about breastfeeding you.
  4. I love how fast you are! Even if it’s maybe not the most convenient thing ever. I also love that you’re doing this motion thing your own special way: you started zooming around the house quite early, using your arms and legs without lifting your belly and chest off the floor, and you’ve veeeery gradually been moving toward proper crawling (only there doesn’t seem to be much reason to bother, since you’re so fast anyway). Your beginnings of movement have been utterly different from Noah’s, not so much in timing as in style.
  5. I love the noises you make, your sounds of glee and deep satisfaction and the indescribable sound you sometimes make when you realize I’m about to feed you, but also your old-man grumbles and the funny long moans you make with your eyes closed when you occasionally take a break in your bedtime meal. You have the best laugh, this wild, sustained, sometimes-near-shrieking, sometimes-gurgling sound. You also try to chat with us–or talk over us, when we’re being loud.
  6. I love that you’ve very recently started trying to throw yourself into my arms from Eric’s, or indicating clearly that you want to get to one of the three of us. It’s like you’ve just started thinking of me and Eric as two separate people rather than as a unit, as The Ones Who Take Care of Me. It’s also like you’re living in one big trust fall and you’re absolutely confident that one of us will catch you every time.
  7. I love how you feel in my arms, so solid and muscular but also so soft and compact. Your belly is particularly amazing in this contrast of squishiness and muscularity.
  8. I love rubbing my face and nose over your perfectly hard, round little head, feeling its warmth and silky softness, breathing you in. You wrinkle your forehead or reach up to pull my hair. You are a serious-business hair puller; it’s a wonder Noah isn’t completely bald now, the way you go after him.
  9. I love that you think the wind is really, really funny.
  10. I love how totally serious you are about getting where you want to go and sticking That Dirty Thing Over There in your mouth. I don’t particularly approve of sucking on the doorstop or gnawing on a slipper, but I admire your exuberant engagement with the world around you, and I deeply appreciate your evident approval of it.

(This post echoes one I wrote to Noah soon after his fifth birthday; it feels like it may become A Thing I Do from time to time.)

That’s me protecting my espresso as Simon tumbles. It’s just how I roll.

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