As of tomorrow, I will have been a mama for 7 years. Ho-ly cow. My first baby is now old enough to walk down to a neighbor's house and see if they can come out and play. He's old enough to walk home from the bus stop. He's old enough to go down to the ditch to catch minnows with his friends. All of these things because I've taught him basic traffic and stranger safety, and I trust that he remembers it.
Robby has been both a blessing and a curse to me. He was a blessing from the start because the unplanned pregnancy was just the kick in the ass I needed to straighten my life up. I've always said that if it weren't for Robby I'd be dead or in jail. He taught me to be selfish when necessary, and that everything works itself out when one is in trouble.
The cursed part is that 1) I am permanently connected to a man that brought me nothing but stress, disappointment, and heartbreak, and 2) he inherited that lovely thing called ADHD. I've often thought that this condition was karmic punishment for my being irresponsible with birth control at the ripe old age of 18, and with a man I had only been dating for 4 months.
Forever I will have a reminder of that man, as his son is not only the spitting image of him, but has inherited many of his quirks, facial expressions, and, of course, that noassatall. He even sits on the floor the same as his father. And has the same crooked smile when he's up to no good. *sigh*
Anyhow, he is my firstborn and I love him to death. I am lucky to have Drew to be Robby's Daddy, and hope to make that legally official someday. Robby is my "practice child" when it comes to discipline and dealing with developmental milestones. Of course, every child will be different, but at least I'm somewhat prepared when the others reach the same age. It continues to fascinate me to see how similar, and yet so different, each of my children end up with each year that goes by.
I'm kind of drawing a blank as to what to write next...I just wanted to memorialize this moment in my motherhood.
Quick update on Connor: he's 9 months old now and 23 lbs (stocky boy), crawling like mad, pulling up and cruising on furniture, and starting to let go for as long as 5 seconds at a time! He babbles all the time, knows Drew is "da-da", and even occasionally says "ma-ma-ma-ma", but mainly when he's upset. He loves to laugh and bang on things (Daddy's little drummer!), and is starting to eat some finger foods (he loves spaghetti :)). We are still nursing, and he's still sleeping with us. As much as I'd like my bed back, I know he needs the comfort and security of snuggling with Mama and Dada all night long, and the truth is, both Drew and I love cosleeping. I have never been so attached to one of my babies, and I have full-throttle attachment parenting to thank for that. The few times I've tried to get him to sleep in a crib have been heartbreaking for both of us. :~( It will happen eventually, but he's not ready yet.
That's all for now. Must go fold laundry.