...you wake up, and time has slipped away.
Seven turned three months old a couple days ago and whoa, it suddenly hit me how fast he's growing up. I remember telling my wife some weeks back to savor these moments - when we could still carry Seven and lull him to sleep. When we could still satisfy his hunger with just milk. When Anie could still make him wear whatever she wants with no complaints from the little guy. Make no mistake about it, we're very happy that he's growing as expected (even at a faster than usual rate), but there's a part of us that also misses "little" Seven.
I already miss how small and fragile he was (although he still is). I miss carrying him for 30 minutes or so until he falls asleep - because I can't carry him more than 15 minutes now as he's so heavy. I miss the sunbathing moments. I miss it when his poop didn't smell. I miss him sleeping next to us in our bed. I even miss my graveyard shift. Time is slipping by so fast and I realize that a couple of months will turn into a couple of years, and our little boy will be gone. Seven will grow from a baby to a boy to an adolescent to a full-fledged man. And although that is looking too far ahead, I know that time is gonna come. It's inevitable.
Funny, but months ago we were burdened by the same things we miss now. Carrying Seven till he fell asleep was exhausting. Getting him some Vitamin D via sunbathing entailed waking up early, a lot of patience, and getting ourselves also exposed to the sun. I never liked cleaning his poop although it didn't smell that bad (or at all) - and to be clear, Anie was the one who did it, I only helped out by preparing the diaper, cotton balls, water, alcohol and the "poop mat". Having Seven in our bed made us sleep like robots, no sudden jerks and no crazy movement. And oh, I hated staying up until 3AM because he wouldn't go to sleep.
We miss those now. And I'm sure we'll be missing what we have with Seven today - a heavy baby who downs a lot of milk, a feeding routine which is becoming regular, more pee and nastier poop, sudden movements that make carrying him more difficult, and lots of noisy baby talk when he's in the mood. We're not complaining, I'm just saying these things are his "issues" now. And again, I'm pretty sure in a few months, we'll be missing those issues.
I can only imagine us not being able to make him burp anymore by carrying him. Maybe feeding him will be a lot harder because milk won't be enough. Pretty soon we'll be potty-training him because we've reached our poop threshold. Today's jerk headbutts will turn into unintentional elbows and hits. Then maybe baby talk will be replaced by tantrums.
Until that happens, we're making sure to enjoy now. As Joni Mitchell's said in 'Big Yellow Taxi', "don't it always seem to go, that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone?"
Before I get more sentimental about it, I'll share photos I took of Seven's 3rd month day. He had a pedia checkup (with vaccines to boot) and attended a birthday party. I don't take his photos that frequently now - her mommy is doing a better job at it - but I vow to document his highlights and milestones.
(For the record, he now weighs 8.2 kilos. He passed his newborn screening [all normal], which we're overjoyed about. Very thankful that Seven hasn't gotten sick yet - not even fever after his vaccines. Lord, please keep it up, and we promise to give our best in taking care of him.)
I'm telling you, before we realize too late, let's cherish and be thankful for the things we have now. Even the little things matter.
I hope tomorrow is like today.
Father to Seven. Prefers to be called "Pop" because Daddy is too sosyal, Papa can mean boyfriend / boy-toy or a ketchup, Tatay is too un-sosyal, and Popsie is just three letters too much. I don't like the cola because it's too sweet, but I esteem coach Gregg Popovich because he gets the job done. So Pop it is.