And I don't like it.
I have found things to be so different the second time around. I remember being so excited as Autumn hit each of her milestones and over the moon when she turned a year old. It felt like an accomplishment for both of us. Standing there in a room surrounded by our family and friends, singing "Happy Birthday" to Nate, I felt excited, I felt accomplished, and I felt sad. He's my last baby and he isn't a baby anymore.
I find myself clinging to Nate's baby-hood MUCH more than I did with Autumn. I was so excited to experience each new "thing" with Autumn that I couldn't wait to get there. Crawling, walking, talking, getting teeth, getting a hair cut, all of those "firsts" that happen in that initial year we did and never looked back.
I am excited each time Nate hits a milestone but that excitement tastes a little bittersweet. I want him to grow and learn. I want him to take that first step so that he will be able to run outside with his sister. I want him to start stringing those sounds together into words so we can discuss the fundamental differences between Batman and Superman. I want those little gaps in his toothy grin to fill in so he can sit at the table and eat an ear of corn next to his sister.
I want all of this wrapped up in my little baby.
It's so funny how life works. 365 days ago life was a blur of midnight feedings and 3 hour increments of sleep. I was muddiling through just trying to get to the next day. When I helped Nate blow out his birthday candle I made a wish.
I wished I had one more 3 am feeding with him.
