Swimmingly

One lesson I keep learning over and over again is that holidays are what you make them. You'd think that after several consecutive years of celebrating Christmas on any day but December 25, I'd have caught on, but no. Each time we waste a holiday scrounging in loungewear, I think "Eh. Thanksgiving. Who needs it?" but then there are the times we decide to actually give a crap and make an effort, and then I'm all, "Oh. Yeah. That was...fun. We should do that more often." Christmas was no less Christmassy the times we had it on December 24 or December 27 or sometime in January.

Which brings us to July 4, a day we have historically done at least a little celebrating but in general haven't gotten too excited about. This year we were so miraculously unscheduled for the entire long weekend that Simon tied himself down to some contract work in the Berkeley hills. No one we knew was having any parties, and we certainly weren't going to drag an infant to a big fireworks kaboom at bedtime, so why not make a few bucks while we're just sitting at home like it was any other day?

And then we got invited to a parade and a BBQ/swim party and a housewarming/swim party/fireworks show (fifty miles away) and ended up spending the whole day (from 9 a.m. to midnight) scrambling around the Bay Area trying to fit it all in. It was a good scramble, though--like a breakfast skillet with eggs and cheese and bacon bits and red bell peppers and cheese and black olives and extra cheese--and even as I fell into bed exhausted and sunburned in the early minutes of July 5, I already couldn't wait to do it again. Holidays are the best! Anyone remember when Arbor Day is?

Of particular note was Wombat's first experience in a swimming pool. Wearing a borrowed swim diaper (pink, with Ariel on the butt), he thought it was pretty cool, and everyone seemed shocked that he took to it so well so fast. When it comes to this baby, it really takes very little to impress us, but my oh my were we proud of him for being such a champ.

In the last few weeks, milestones have been passing like mile markers on the highway; they go by so fast I get dizzy trying to keep track. In the two weeks since Wombat initiated the Face Crawl, he's learned a dozen new skillz (yo), each one more impressive than the last. He can now motor around the room while holding his new favorite toy (a 1/3 c. measuring cup) in one hand. He intentionally overturns buckets and mixing bowls so he can pound on their bottoms. He can pass objects back and forth between hands with purpose (for instance, to better use the measuring cup to pound on the overturned mixing bowl). Ten days ago I felt his first tooth, a wee bit of wickedness waging war against my unsuspecting fingertip. He's not the same baby he was last month.

Before becoming a parent, and then especially in Wombat's very earliest days, I was overwhelmed at the thought that with every passing moment I would be losing the baby I'd had the moment before. They change so fast, and I hate change so much...something was going to give, and I was afraid it might be my sanity.

Six and a half months out, though, I can say that while I sure enjoyed the heck out of Wombat when he was a wrinkly little do-nothing squirt, he's so much more fun now. Believe me, no one's more surprised than I that I haven't been constantly tortured with wistfulness in watching him grow up, but I think I've finally figured out why: Because he just keeps getting better.

In my experience, change is scariest when it's being anticipated from a place of happiness and stability. I.e., why go messing with a good thing and risk ruining it all? With this baby, though, man. He's great on Sunday and then even greater on Monday; sometimes it's even hard to pay attention to Monday because I'm already so excited for Tuesday. Something tells me this won't be so easy when my sweet, loving, thoughtful twelve-year-old morphs into a surly, do-nothing teen come 2021, but for now I'm basking in his transformation every step (or face crawl or splish-splash) along the way.

wrote Leah at 6:36 AM | Comments (6)