I am in bed, next to my sleeping son. I can't sleep, but he is peaceful, smacking his lips the way he does when he is in a deep sleep. His leg is propped up under his hip, as if he might start crawling at any moment. Honestly, now that he has learned how to move on his own it is difficult to get him interested in sleep.
Today he kept working on his army crawl. He can turn around and scoot towards daddy, or the clothes drying rack, or the floor length curtains. Oh, why did I insist on floor length curtains!?! He is still slow enough that I can catch him before he gets into too much trouble, but I have a feeling that won't last much longer. Now I've got baby proofing as my main concern and project.
He just seems so determined to get where he wants to go. He has been frustrated for weeks, exhausting himself on the floor until he cries and falls asleep on my breast. I hope he keeps this desire. This passion. This joy. I think, with a father like Nikola, he has a pretty good shot at staying wide-eyed and filled with love. Oh, that man.
We spent the last two evenings on the beach. I thought Peatuk would love it, but the waves scare him and the sea foam seems unsettling. He is much happier tucked back in the shade, watching the leaves move and being adored by everyone around him. I am the opposite. I have never figured out how to get within ten feet of a beach without getting sand in every unmentionable crack so I find the water safer. Floating weightless, letting the tiny waves toss me about, and every now and then turning in a spiral to catch sight of my family waiting for me on the shore. It is perfect.
No comments:
Post a Comment