Yesterday was supposed to be like any other day. Well, none of our days are exactly like our other ones – with having a wild baby and all – but you know what I mean.
Except it wasn’t.
I was struggling to put Viktor to sleep last night. A lot. We started the bedtime routine a few minutes past 7pm – it was still a bit early for him, but he was tired and cranky. Filip went to take a nap and we both hoped Viktor would be asleep soon, so we can spend some time together.
We did spend time together, but not quite in a way we’d imagined.
After about an hour and a half of trying to get him to lay down and failing, I caved and went to grab another bottle of milk. AFTER his last bottle. Mostly, he’s not hungry, but he drinks all of it and tends to fall asleep after a struggle to get him down if he gets milk. This imperfect mom decided that tonight it doesn’t matter that his teeth have already been brushed. I was struggling.
While I was in the kitchen, Filip called me. I got super scared, thinking something bad happened, but when I came back, Viktor was sitting in his crib. He was laughing, squeaking and wildly clapping his hands. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this excited. He got up on his own and he knew it! He was so proud!
I instantly forgot I was supposed to put him to bed. I saw him trying to reach for the top of the crib fence and I think I motivated him a bit by showing him I was holding on to it, too. He somehow grabbed it with his little hands, got up on his feet and stood up on his own!
It I thought he was excited when he sat up for the first time only a few minutes ago, it was nothing compared to this! He was holding on tightly, while squeaking and laughing.
At that point, Filip was completely awake, too.
We were watching him and it hit us, right there and then.
I’ve lately been calling him baby, hoping that it would somehow stop the time from flying by so quickly. It seems to have accelerated it, apparently. Our boy is now able to stand on his two feet.
“It seems like yesterday, when we brought him home, held his little head and burped him every time he finishes his bottle…”, said Filip.
For him, telling me something like this meant a great deal. He’s not a wordy guy when it comes to expressing those emotions that just… strike you out of nowhere.
It was getting late, probably close to 9pm. We were showing no intentions of putting him to bed. We were staring at him lovingly, and he was perfectly happy with that.
I turned on the light, changed him and put him back in the crib, thinking that the party’s over.
Apparently, it was not.
He somehow managed to grab one of his little books that was standing next to the crib, on the night table. (This was no easy task for a baby, considering he had to figure out he needs to turn it clockwise from outside the crib, then pull it through the space between the crib bars. Honestly, we’re not even sure how he managed!) The book wasn’t hard-covered, so he struggled a lot to open it. I’ve never even seen him open a book of any kind on his own, except for the really baby-friendly ones with thick, hard pages.
He rolled around the crib for what seemed like ages, trying to put his fingers between the pages so he can open it. He was trying so hard.
I was, too. I struggled not to cry. I was a bit sad, but mostly happy. Seeing him do all these cool things made me feel so proud. We taught him something, after all. We’re doing good.
And he’s doing great. His problem-solving side of personality is flourishing, day by day, and I would hate to miss a single moment.
Eventually, he managed to open the little book and he got just as excited. We were excited, too. It was one of those moments in parenthood when you know it’s late and your baby should be in bed, but you’re not willing to let them go because you’re so in love. You’re afraid that, if you go to sleep and they do, too, something awesome that could have happened will miss its opportunity.