I miss my blog

It has been way too long since I have written anything, and I sure do miss it. I check my blog frequently, as if it maybe somehow miraculously updated itself along the way, and I am always weirdly, vaguely surprised and disappointed to find it exactly the same as I last left it… kind of the same feeling I get every time I don’t win the mega-millions powerball jackpot.

I guess the longer I go without posting, the harder it gets to come back to it, bc/ I have so much to say, so much has happened, and I just don’t know where to start… kind of the same feeling I get when I sit around and think about old friends that I haven’t talked to in too long. Nostalgic, and kind of overwhelming. Where to begin?

JD is six months tomorrow. My little boy, my son, is one half a year old. He is so big now; he takes up my whole lap when I hold him, his legs dangle over the side of the rocker when I feed him. He sprawls himself out across my lap, one hand reaching up to grab and pat my face, and the other arm dangling nonchalantly, the epitome of total ease and relaxation. He is completely comfortable in his own skin.

His smile, his big gummy, toothless grin, takes up his whole face. His eyes shine and twinkle. His laughter is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard. I sit there, and he stands up on my lap, bracing himself with his hands on my shoulders, and we stare and smile into each others eyes; the love just pours out and flows right there between us, and I can feel it, and I know he can, I can feel it and it is the purest, most beautiful feeling I have ever felt. It feels so good that it hurts my heart.

JD is six months tomorrow. My little baby, my son, is growing up and becoming a cognitive, purposeful little man. It’s so crazy, but just a few months ago, he was this beautiful little slug, just laying around, just laying there. Then one day, that little slug was picking stuff up and putting it in his mouth, he was kicking his feet, he was whooping and yelling-- just because he suddenly realized that he could.

Here’s the thing. One night, I was carrying JD in one arm as I walked through the kitchen on my way to put him to bed. There was a pile of clean Soothies that had just come out of the dishwasher, and I scooped them up to take them into his room, too. My mind was thinking of God-knows-what, probably the upcoming DWTS Results Show, or the carton of Tin Roof Sundae ice cream in the freezer, or something equally trivial and totally removed from the baby in my arm and pile of pacifiers in my hand. JD turned, reached over, plucked a Soothie right out of my hand, and popped it into his mouth. I froze. The world froze. Oh. My. God. My little slug had just oh-so-casually demonstrated layer upon layer of cognition and purposefulness. He saw the Soothie and knew what it was; he wanted the Soothie, he used his whole body to get the Soothie, and he knew what to do with it once he had it. Holy Shit. My little thinking, acting, goal-achieving man.

JD is six months tomorrow. My little baby, my little boy, my son. He sits up by himself, he sings and blows big slobbery raspberries, he gobbles up applesauce and squash and peas and bananas with blueberries. He is delighted by his own reflection in the mirror. His whole body wiggles with joy when I come into his room to pick him up after a nap. He grunts when he is hungry and he whines when he is tired. He shrieks with impatience when he is bored. He laughs soundlessly when I toss him up in the air, and yesterday at the dog park, he shouted with laughter when he saw a pug. This pug didn’t do anything particularly funny, mind you, he just ran on by, but it sure did tickle JD’s funny bone.

When we enter the apartment, he lunges for the key-rack and methodically grabs-and-drops each set of keys hanging on it. Only when his job is done can we go up the stairs and take our coats off. When he takes a bath, he kicks and splashes so hard that half the water sloshes out of his little baby tub. When he rides in his stroller, he leans back and kicks one leg up so his foot rests on the snack tray. Mr. Cool, maxin’ and relaxin’, just like the way I used to kick one leg up and rest my foot on the dashboard of my best friend’s car when we were sixteen and out cruisin’. Like I said, he is completely comfortable in his own skin. My wish for him is that he will always stay that way.

He is fat and happy and warm and sweet. He is everything that is good and pure in the world. When I put him to bed at night, I hug him tight and smell his head. I lay him down and kiss his cheeks. I rub his tummy and think how good it is to be six months old, to have a tummy full of milk and sweet potatoes, to have a warm, comfortable bed and a soft Lamby to snuggle with, to have days filled with love, and laughter and smiles, and kisses and hugs. I think how good it is to be 31 years old and have JD, my little baby, my son, and all that he gives me, in my life.