Twenty-Eight Weeks

Today marks the twenty-eighth week of this pregnancy. Right now I'm typing in between giving The Boy bites of Yogurt Melts and strawberry oatmeal. It wasn't that long ago that I was twenty-eight weeks pregnant with him and now he's nearly fifteen months old. After every bite of oatmeal he says, "Num!" and gives me a grin as if to say, "Thank you, Momma, for not feeding me a pile of crap for breakfast."

Sometimes I have to remind myself to enjoy these moments because in twelve weeks The Boy will have to share his time with his sister. While I'm excited and anxious for her to be here, I love my days with my son. We teach each other so many things throughout the day. I teach him silly songs and animal noises; he teaches me to find excitement in the mundane. I discipline him, but he also disciplines me. More than once a day I lose my patience with him and I have to take a deep breath and remember that everything in this world is new to him and he doesn't know any better way to experience life than by jumping in feet first.

Yesterday, The Boy and I did our weekly cleaning at the church. In this particular room, a room for kids age two, there are all sorts of toys that that The Boy loves to chew on and carry around. Almost every week he picks out a toy bottle to carry around in his mouth and immediately finds Scoops from Bob the Builder and pushes him along the floor making "vroom vroom" noises. As I gathered up toys to sanitize and stacked chairs on the table so I could easily vacuum the pretzel crumbs, I realized just how boring it would be to clean the room without The Boy with me.

He holds my hand while we walk to get the vacuum. He holds my hand while I vacuum. He sits on my lap while I wipe down toy food and dishes. What does he do when I organize and clothe the baby dolls? One by one he picks them up, gives them smoochies and hugs, and hands them to me to put on the shelf. It's those moments when I realize that when he's not beating the crap out of his sister he's going to be hugging her and kissing her and teaching her the things I taught him. He's also going to be teaching her the things he learned on his own, like how making Silly Face at the most opportune time can make Momma go from sad to happy in one point three seconds.

I have twelve more weeks to enjoy my days as "just my boy and me" before they become "just my kids and me." Today I'm going to try and figure out what makes the remote control that interesting.