What was I doing almost a year ago?

In short, waiting and hoping that Caleb Sheridan would arrive any day...

July 25, 2009--eager to meet my son (and be done with it already!)

The hospital bag was mostly packed albeit those things you always throw in at the last moment: contact solution, toothbrush, razor, etc. I'd been working on my nightly pelvic exercises and stretches. Also continuing to slather on the cocoa butter lotion (which didn't really help me prevent stretch marks). I remember sitting in the glider in his finished nursery often, rocking back and forth ever so slowly, telling him how we couldn't wait to meet him. It was surreal, having everything ready to go, just no baby yet. I wondered what motherhood would be like. Could it really be as challenging and yet so amazingly wonderful at the same time as other moms had led me to believe?

What about labor and birth? Would I end up having to be induced? Would I be able to handle it? His due date was August 5th, 2009. I kept imagining having to call Brent at work and saying, "Honey, I think I'm in labor!" Which is funny to me in of itself, because I don't refer to Brent as "honey." :) Would I be out in public and have my water break?

At the end of my pregnancy, I really enjoyed speculating and imagining everything. I wasn't anxious about it really, just wondering how it'd all go down. And I'm sure God had fun listening to and watching me pose "What if?" scenarios.

He knew all along. He knew the moment that Caleb Sheridan would make his grand entrance. He knew the joyful tears I would shed at his birth, and the heartrending tears that would come during the following weeks. He knew that He would give me strength in my weakness and carry me through. He heard my cries along with Caleb's, begging for mercy and that most precious gift, sleep. He knew that things would get better, it would just take awhile. He knew that I would grow to appreciate the new normal. He knew that I would become more dependent upon Him.

But I did not know of these things yet. Little did I know that I would be meeting my son very soon, just a handful of days later on July 31st, 2009.

My "bowling ball"

Sorry for the blurriness and darkness in the first two pics. That's what happens when you're shooting with no flash and a baby comes toddling towards you with the momentum of a freight train. Caleb is officially walking up a storm. He took his first ever steps while we were on vacation at the beach. My sister and I were the witnesses of his unexpected steps into a new frontier. Since Monday at around 4:30 pm, it's as if his feet have taken on a life of their own, willing his body to move along whether it wants to or not.

Other parents have mentioned to me stories of their own childrens' first steps. More often than not, it's more of an omen, as in "You're really going to be busy now..." But others have commented more on the milestone itself in the grand scheme of things. I'll admit when he did his longest walk of 10 steps on Monday afternoon, I was crying and cheering and clapping at the same time. He deserved the shiniest gold medal that has ever been forged from the earth. I was the proudest mom you could find at 4:40 pm on July 12th, 2010.

But at 4:41 pm, on July 12th, another feeling also welled up: recognizing that now I had an official toddler, and his babyhood is quickly dwindling by the day. How do these memories come and go so flittingly? And pardon the cliche', but "they grow up so fast." And every time I hear that, I find myself nodding and giving a soft smile. But it really hits home when it's your precious babe that's doing all of the alleged fast growing. And the other cliche', "growing like a weed," that's true too.

Okay, I'm getting way too mushy for my own good right now, ahem. So as my toddler, is making his way through the house now, with increasing progress by the day (dear Lord!), I hear frequent thuds. At first, I thought I was hearing the typical house-settling sounds, or other quasi-legit reasons for random noises. But I soon discovered that those random thuds were none other than my toddler's head hitting the floor. Before you label me a complete moron for not thinking or knowing that this could be a possibility, blessed me has a son who doesn't cry when his head hits the floor. So he falls, thuds!, rolls over, and keeps moving on. Kinda like a bowling ball. :) And if I wasn't with him directly, I wouldn't have known he even fell.

So for anyone keeping track, Caleb officially began walking in his 49th week. You go, big guy!

~~~

To my beloved "bowling ball," Mommy is so proud of you. I've only caught my breath twice since you've been walking, and you were just fine. Keep up the awesome work! And if you ever need a hand to hold, I'll be here...