milestones

The other day my neighbor now friend sent me a link to the following article. I thought it was so perfect because it captures some of the sneaking suspicions I've been having about myself these past two and a half months. I joked back that the article resonated with someone whose ideal target audience is 18-year-olds.

It's true. I have trouble with babies. I don't like to hold other people's babies; I'm not a person who does well with lots of loud noises (like crying for minutes on end); and I'm also a person who LOVES, LOVES, LOVES her sleep. But today I realized that even if babies aren't my thing, my baby is my thing.

Baby Beeton took his first nap in his "big boy" crib today. We've been keeping him in a bassinet in our room since he was born for both naps and nighttime slumber. But, he's getting very long (must get his height from his parents... um, no) and has almost outgrown the bassinet, so we thought it was time to (slowly) transition to his own room in the beautiful crib that his Nana and Pops bought him. When I put him down to sleep, I got a little tear in my eye, realizing that this little peanut is in fact growing each day. And that's when it dawned on me that while I'd still take an 18-year-old over a newborn, I wouldn't trade my little baby in for anything.

Keep sweeping, Martha

Watched The Beaver.