Hey, look at me. I'm a newborn and I sleep.
Turn into this:
Before you're a parent, everyone will tell you how quickly your kids will grow up. To remember each moment with them. Until you actually become a parent, you don't realize how true this is. I'm realizing it now-and he's only 4.5 months old. What am I going to do when he turns 1? Or 10? Or 20?
This week Daddy and I looked through pictures of Tyson when he was a newborn. We marveled at his full head of hair and wrinkly face. And he was small! He was so small! With tiny little hands and feet. I'm secretly still surprised we didn't break him. When did his full head of hair disappear? When did his wrinkly face fade away to that amazingly smooth skin? When did he lose the newborn pout and develop his baby grin?
Time is already going too fast.
I'm afraid I won't remember things. Like how he fit so perfectly into the crook of my arm when we slept together that first night. Or how I was so afraid he'd quit breathing that I would watch his chest rise and fall until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. Or how the newborn outfits I brought to the hospital were too big for him. Or how we would cuddle on the couch every night before his fussy time. Or how his bottom lip was crooked for the first month. Or how he hated his swing until he was three months old. Or when we used to feed him only two ounces. Or how he used to fit the short way in his crib. Or how he would smile as he drifted off to sleep. Or how I sometimes secretly liked doing the middle of the night feeding so I could see those smiles.
Each stage really is amazing, but I pray that I'm soaking it all in. Soaking him in-because those other parents? They're so right. They grow much too fast.