I want a baby. I want a baby real bad.
I keep telling Trent that and we've actually been trying to get pregnant since February. { I know 4 whole months is not long AT ALL but when you desperately want a baby it feels like a long time. My ♥ goes out to all the mothers who have been trying to have a baby for years }
I had a miscarriage this past month and its made me realize how grateful I am for the baby boy that I do have. I have been treasuring every single moment I spend with him.
I have been doing little things with him to make him feel special. He is a busy boy so we've been staying extra busy doing the little things that he loves.
We make breakfast together.
We stack his blocks up really high so he can knock them down.
We go for walks {sometimes 2 or 3 a day if he wants}
We play with our close friends.
We run in the sprinkles.
He helps me hold the hose when we water our grass.
We read books {I try to read while he quickly turns the pages}
We make yummy treats.
We watch cartoons together.
We go see the animals at Superstition Farm.
We write with chalk in the backyard.
We color together.
We play at the park.
I feel like he has grown into a little man in the blink of an eye.
I love watching him explore and find things that he loves.
Everyone tells me how much energy he has {or how stubborn he is, or how he already knows what he wants and hes not even two, or how crazy he is}
I just tell him to keep being his adventurous, brave, and crazy little self because I wouldn't trade him for the world.
I know that he is not always going to want to sit on my lap while I read him books. He is not always going to grab my hand and take me to the door when he wants to go outside. He is not always going to want to help me unload all the silverware from the dishwasher. He's not always going to want to sit on the counter and help me stir the brownie mix. So I treasure these little moments I have with him.
"When you reach for the stars, don't forget who you are. And please don't turn around and grow up way too fast. See the sand in my grasp, from the first to the last. Every grain becomes a memory from the past. Oh, Life's an Hourglass."-{that Mrs. Gledhill is a smart lady}
