Last night I almost cried because his teeth are coming in. His whole life I’ve been wanting him to grow up faster, to go from an unresponsive lump of baby to the giggly, smiley cuteness he is now. I love him the way he is now (of course I loved him before, too)—but he’s not stopping here. He’s going to keep growing.
It’s a mixed blessing. He’ll grow out of waking up during the night. (Yes, he still does that. Sigh.) But he’ll grow out of his sweet, toothless grin. He’ll be able to tell me, “I love you, Mama” in words. But he won’t laugh or arch his back and screech in delight when I come in the room.
And as he gets older, it means I’ll have to get serious about this whole parenting thing. I’ll need to teach him more than his name and the colors of the rainbow and the alphabet and counting. He’ll need more than that to become the person which I hope he’ll be. I worry about his college and serving a mission when he’s 19 and getting his Eagle Scout (if he chooses). How can we ever save enough and teach him enough and pray for him enough?
But I can’t worry about the future and mourn the passage of time all the time. I know that I have to appreciate and enjoy the present. When Hayden’s upset, it’s easier to wish he were older and could tell me what’s wrong and I could comfort him better. But when Hayden’s happy, enjoying time with him is the easiest thing in the world to do.
I guess they’re right. They always grow up too fast.
But today, he only has one tooth.
As my sisters sang at my wedding (and we’ll sing at Jaime’s in a few months):
A million tomorrows shall all pass away
Ere I forget all the joy that is mine today.