Jax is six months old now. Half a year has gone by since I went through the most intense experience of my life. I was blessed to have a great support team including my mom, my mother in law and Scott during my actual labor and my dad joined us shortly thereafter. My nurses were so kind and encouraging and my doctor made me feel great. But man, I’m a mommy now. It’s been half a year since I wore an outfit sans spit up. It’s been half a year since I wore a normal bra. It’s been over a year since I’ve slept through the night.
My little man is amazing. He’s started solid food and loves it. He’s starting to becoming mobile and loves it until he realizes all he did was spin in a circle. Then he gets mad and moos like a cow. He calls me “ma” or “mamamamamama” and his daddy is “ba.”
Speaking of daddy, there’s no one Jax loves more. I’m pretty sure that he feels the same way about me that my dogs do but his dad; oh boy. Big smiles. Loud squeals. I get my chin gnawed on, daddy gets giggles and laughs. Perhaps it’s the fact that I won’t let him pull Melodie’s fur or eat only his toes. I’m already the tough parent. (FYI the feeling from son to father is mutual and ridiculously cute to watch.)
I wish I had known from the very beginning that I’d get the hang of things; that eventually we’d figure things out and get on our own imperfect schedule. Yes there are days when I don’t get a shower in before work because I’m too busy enjoying morning snuggles (aka one more hour of sleep). Most days I’m lucky to remember my bottles to pump into let alone my own lunch. Yeah it’s not perfect but it’s teamwork at it’s finest.
So here’s your gratuitous picture of our baby (because let’s face it that why you’re here). Take a moment to adore.
Six months down. The countdown to toddlerhood begins.