Month Three

I'm running a bit late this month. The little man needs more momma time these days (he actually pays attention to me now) which gives momma significantly less computer time. But that time is more fun for momma now: he is grabbing things, and watches me and toys, and will even sit assisted. Actually, having started getting the vantage point of sitting, lying down just isn't good enough anymore, unless there is something to play with or to watch.

• Only the good stuff makes the cut. Having such little time for myself really narrows down the fun things I do. When given a choice between KoL and Sims, I choose Sims (but TopRamen will adventure again someday). And I find that, while on the bottom of the fun pile pre-baby, taking a bath and sipping some wine have suddenly moved to the top of the list. Maybe I'm turning into a grown-up.
• Even if I'm not becoming a grown-up, I do hope I am becoming a grown Christian. After the baby dedication at church this month, I have found myself dwelling on Deuteronomy 6 with some amount of nervousness. Being the one who spends the most time with our son, there is a heavy burden on me to live a life after God. While my relationship with Him has always been important, it's now not just my own that is at stake but that of my son as well. And knowing that, I think, spurs me to love God more. And to love people more as well; I guess God knows some things require more external motivation for me to do them.
• Mom vs. Mom I've met lots of moms and babies. I know the babies' names. I don't know the moms'. Why talk about yourselves when you can talk about your kids? And when you're talking about your kids, it is so easy to compare them. I have to fight that impulse every time I meet another baby. And it's practice in showing love to others that I try to praise their kids' accomplishments while not bragging about my own. Although his only major feat is being bigger than their kid. 
• The little man is so very fortunate. Many babies wake up hungry with no one to feed them. Some wake up with no one to love them. When the little man cries in his crib, and I smile at him while I reach to pick him up, I cannot help but think that I am so glad he has someone (many someones, in fact) who smile at him and love him.
• Babies are perfect for collecting fuzz. It gets in between their slobbery fingers. And then it gets on their mouth. It gets between their toes (and won't come out again until bath time). Where does it all come from? It's not like the little man is crawling or anything.