This weekend Boy3 had his first tastes of solid food. Well, not really solid, more pureed, but you get my drift.
This is, for me, a bittersweet milestone. Up until this point in his little life #3 has been breastfed. Meaning that I have produced every ounce of food that he has consumed. Some portion of every cell in his little body initially passed through me. This is until Friday evening. He received nourishment that I didn't provide for him. Of course, I bought the food, heated it up, mixed it with juice, fed it to him....I'm still intimately involved in the process, but it's just not quite the same. This is the first little step toward him growing up, and I'm not ready.
Boy3 is, most likely, my last baby. With the first I anticipated every milestone. I eagerly anticipated eating solid food, walking, talking and going to school. With Boy2 I watched with great pride as he moved from baby to toddler and now to preschooler. With Boy3, I would be perfectly content to keep him at four and a half months forever. I would happily endure years of sleepless nights and days when I couldn't put him down even long enough to go to the bathroom just to keep the sweet, cuddly little baby I am currently blessed with.
The time when they will fall asleep in you arms and cuddle with you for hours on end are so fleeting. Today it is solid food, tomorrow it will be walking and then running. I feel like I didn't properly enjoy the babyhood of the first two, so for now, I will sign off...I have some cuddling to do.