Davy, Davy the Wonder Baby

Davy is 4 and a half months old today.

You can chalk it up to hormones if you want, but the waves of love that wash over me when I look into his sweet, smiling eyes leave me limp.

He brings me so much joy.

People often comment on what a good baby Davy is.
I've been fortunate--all of my babies have been easy.
Seldom fussy, never colicky or clingy, they were all good babies.
But Davy surpasses them all.
I call him the Wonder Baby because he really is.
He is just mellow, calm and happy.
Oh that boy is happy.
He just loves to be with people.
He'll let anybody hold him and he smiles and talks to them while they do.
Or, if he's tired, he'll fall asleep in their arms.
He loves me best of all, though.
I'm not ashamed to say that I love that.

4 and a half months is so much fun with him.

He grabs everything now and tries to put it in his mouth.

He rolls around and loves to be rough-housed with.
He loves to be tickled.
He laughs out loud.
He likes to be thrown up in the air and to ride the horsey on my knee.
He smiles and grins and tries so hard to get a word or 2 out of his mouth.
He's not a newborn anymore.
He's a baby.

And, like all my babies, he's got those roly-poly thighs that strangers ask if they can squeeze.
He's not the biggest 4 month old I've had, but at 18 pounds he's putting in a good effort.
If he were my first baby I would be shouting from the rooftops that he's a great sleeper.
He naps and naps during the day.
He just goes to sleep when I lay him down.
And for months now, he's only woken once in the night to eat.
For the past 3 nights he's slept 10 hours straight through.
But,  I've done this enough times to know that as soon as he gets into a routine, something will change.
If he sleeps more now, he'll sleep less later.
Or he'll be the one who wants to sleep in our bed.
Whatever.
I've done this enough times not to get upset about it.
I won't feel ripped off that he's not sleeping more.
We'll all be sleeping more, eventually.

The best part about this little boy is how much he reminds me to be in the moment with him.
I dread, truly dread, him turning 1, then 2 then 7.
I know now how fast it all goes by and that I'll never get it back.
I am more present with David than I was with any of my other babies.
Because I know.
Soon enough, he'll be standing at the window, calling to his big brothers, or his sister, and he'll be busy.
Busy with toys, busy with playing, busy exploring, making messes and making me chase him all over creation.

He won't be content to simply sit on my lap and let me nibble his toes.
Right now that's his favorite place in the world.
I cherish that.
Is it weird to say that I already miss these days?
Being a mama is beautifully, wonderfully, amazingly hard.


I try to remember that with the other kids too.
Someday James won't ask me to hold his hand when he's up coughing in the middle of the night.
William won't climb into bed with me in the morning.
And Lilly won't be thrilled to brush my hair.
I need to love them all hard.
Right this minute, because the minutes are racing by.
And I never know when they will stop.

There are a lot of different reasons why David's presence in my life means so much.

He is a tangible example of God's provision after a time of much loss.
He's far enough down the line that I finally know how to relax and simply enjoy my baby.
He is the light of his siblings' eyes.

And, I have a sneaking suspicion he'll be our last baby.

I hear other women say that so confidently.

With happiness even.

But that's not me.

I mourn being done with babies.

And while I can't imagine going through another pregnancy, I can imagine more babies.

Because they're wonderful.

He's wonderful.

And I love him to the very core of my being.

"A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure." (source)

And you are, Baby Davy.

You are indeed.

I love you so.

Love from,

Mommy

............................................................................................
I admit, Davy is easy to love.
What baby isn't?
But, like when I first fell in love with Aaron, it hasn't gotten hard yet.
Those days will come.
It happens to all of us.
And I'll have days with him like I do with the others.

By the end of the day today my patience was worn thin.
I was so tired of being needed, tired of messes, tired of sweeping up crumbs and tired of noise.
I just wanted to be done.
And I was grouchy and mean.
I had to apologize.


Do you ever wonder what their last memory of you will be?
Do you ever wonder if they'll remember you yelling more than they'll remember you smiling?
Do you ever think of the time you've wasted getting upset about stupid things?


Having Davy around reminds me of these things.
He reminds me to give them all my best.
And to pick up and try again when I give them my worst.
It's a good thing to remember.
Who, or what, are you giving your best to?


PS.  I just read this post by my friend, Hannah.
It fit so well with this post.  
It reminded me that I need to give my best to my husband too, not just my children.
How often have I given him the dregs of what's left of me after the kids are down for the night.
Or worse yet, given him nothing at all because I'm worn out and he's a grown up and can handle it.
Yes, he needs the best of me too.
Go read it and be encouraged.