The last time

I found the WordPress app for my iPad this afternoon. Now I can blog easier than ever.

Baby is sleeping propped up against my chest. I should probably wake him up, since bedtime is a short 48 minutes away, but I treasure this closeness, and there are five busy days ahead. These moments will sustain me. And besides, I’ve been trying to get him to slumber on me like he did so often his first weeks of life. The full on heavy desperate sleep of days. I’m not sure when he stopped falling asleep that way, but there were many days that had us both closing our eyes and falling into dream world together. That I do not remember his last sleep curled up on my chest makes me a little sad, nostalgic I guess. Because he is growing so fast. Because maybe if I had known it was the last time he’d be sleeping that way, I would have captured it on camera. On my hipstamatic so I could have possibly framed some pseudo-arty photo of us some day. Or maybe I would have just breathed a little deeper, held him tighter, whispered my love for him once more.

But then again, maybe I should be glad I can’t recall the exact last time. Life is better that way, no? If I had known 10/22/2011 would be the last morning I’d wake up only concerned with my own needs, I would have panicked. Each time a last time happens, it will fade into the fabric of my love for my baby son. He’s at this amazing stage, that with each time I realize a last time occurred, we have three first times to anticipate. This weekend we had the unbelievably timely First Time Sleeping Until 8am. And tomorrow he has his first March 26th. Later this week he’ll have his first trip to the greenhouse, and next week (we think) his first taste of butternut squash.

Whether you’re 5 months old, or 28 years old, I think it’s worth recognizing that each day is a new one, imparting a chance to reflect that life is literally less about the things we did than the things we’re doing.

Carry on!

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