My sweet boy is on the move these days. He started crawling about three weeks ago, right after he turned eight months, and hasn't stopped moving since. It's interesting how my days with him have changed since the newborn and tiny infant stage. He's only almost nine months, but he's gone from being held constantly, to sitting up on his own, to being able to entertain himself shortly while sitting in one spot, to full on moving around the entire house at his own free will. My only saving grace is a wonderfully baby-proof house. He's figured out how to open drawers and cabinets and the curtains have become his new entertainment. They're all child-locked and sturdy, of course.
In one way it's freeing to not have to sit right next to him grabbing this or that for him. I never leave him in a room alone longer than a minute, but I can move around the house pretty freely doing what I need to do knowing that he's entertaining himself or on his way to me (our house is pretty small!). In another way, though, it makes my mama heart ache just a little. He's getting so big. I'm mostly thrilled that he's growing and learning new things and how to overcome even the tiniest challenges. I'm proud that he's doing so well, and under my care, too! But there are times when I just want to stop time for a little and hold him while he lays on me. He rarely does that now, except for when he's nursing. He'll latch on, feel around for a strand of my hair, and work it in and out of his little chubby fingers while he stares up at me. Be still my heart!
Overall, it is the biggest joy to watch him grow and I feel so blessed to be his mama. I'll be right here behind him cheering him on at every milestone, even the ones that remind me the most that he won't be little long.