Max is ten months old now. Double digits and time has flown so fast this past year. He has grown so quickly and now he squawks and screeches to communicate. His body no longer fits so snuggly between my arms but instead extends beyond the limits of our faded orange rocking chair.
At ten months Max is perfectly balanced. He alternates between daring explorer testing the texture of anything with his tongue. He rockets into the bathroom if it's being occupied or you happened to leave the door open on accident. He is curious about the workings of the bathtub and the toilet paper and the toilet. He loves to play independently, scurring about our apartment from the kitchen where is he has attempted to pull down our basil plant to the living room where he finds the throw blanket to play peekaboo with himself to the hallway where he bangs on the washing machine as his very own drum.
On the flip side he still wants me. He loves to be held at my level, to see what I see and do what I do. He usually wants whatever happens to be in my hands. At night when he is tired he will snuggle into my chest and oh the joy that a snuggle can induce. It is what I imagine heaven feels like.
Now he waves and blows kisses without his hand (who decided it was necessary anyway?) and he occasionally takes a couple of steps, still unsure of whether walking will actually be a faster mode of transportation.
Sometimes I have the fear of losing Max in this life. I have known families who have lost children prematurely and my heart hurts. It's a logical fear with the state of the world today and I love my child fiercly. When I tell my husband that I am drained emotionally at the end of the day it is because of the intense amount of love that I have for this tiny person. It is consuming and so utterly complex. The guilt we have as mothers? It's out of love. The frustration? Love. The small, seemingly miniscule accomplishments like them trying their first piece of watermelon? All of it is out of love for something you created.
So this love is contrasted by fear of loss and sometimes I let fear gain the upperhand because that is exactly what Satan wants. He wants me to believe that this life is all there is. But it's not true. I have to live in a way that proves to him that all of those false little lies that you will never see a loved one again and that they are gone forever is just not true.
But he will only be this small once. It will only last so long that he will fit on my lap and still give me opened mouth kisses. So time is flying fast and he is getting bigger before I even know it, but he will always be mine throughout time and all eternity.