.. when I clicked through my footage and was hit with this face
He looks a little tired with a slight handsome edge. His eyes don't innocently wonder. They know.
You might expect me to continue on this thought about how I'm sad, I miss the bumbling baby, innocence is gone forever and so on and whine on.
But I'm not sad. I don't miss the baby. It sounds harsh, but when I think back on the days when Carter couldn't talk or walk, all I can remember is what a struggle everything was and my desperate attempts to memorize the fleeting fat on his baby face - because I loved it, yes, but also because They grow up fast was being chanted at me from every direction. I don't fully remember Carter in his infancy. Just the words I can't, I don't have time and I'm tired. I remember everything was hard. When I hear about my friends getting pregnant, I remember how exciting the unknown can be, and then I'm a little relieved that I got past it all.
I'm loving this age above all other ages. The bobbling cuteness has worn off, but the 'little person' cuteness is at its dawn. Dust is settling. Having come through years of panicking to appease every waking need, it's a strange relief to find minutes or even an hour pass where he needs nothing from me.
My husband and I can turn some focus back to our marriage (instead of each other's throats) and have full, hilarious conversations with Carter. I can reason with him, explain things to him, and he just flat out accepts it all. Manners? Ok. First vegetables, then cookies? Ok. Put it in the trash? Ok.
He has the best heart. I don't have to flop onto my bed in frustrated surrender anymore, wondering how to stop the crying and whining. It's easy to tell that all he wants for his life today are hugs, fun, a cup full of milk and anything with wheels.
I used to desperately want a baby. Had I known what my baby would become in two years, this is what I would have desperately wanted.