Beck turns one next week. Which seems impossible. Like there is actually no way one year has really passed by since they first laid him on my chest, seconds old.
I think the word bittersweet is the perfect word for describing watching your baby grow up. Time goes by so fast sometimes it legitimately hurts. I'll look back at photos or videos of when he was a newborn and it feels like someone punched me in the chest. The wind gets knocked out of me. And at the very same moment, I've over the moon happy about how much he has grown. He says mama and calls for me when he gets hurt. He smiles when I sing made-up songs about him. When you ask him "How big is Beck?" his arms fly open and he smiles from ear to ear, then claps for himself.
And in so many ways all these things are a million times better than the little newborn that just layed there asleep 90% of the day. But it still stings. My tiny little baby suddenly looks like more like a little boy. But I'm ready for it. Excited to see him learn and discover new things, thanking God every day that I get to be his mom.
Looking back at old photos will probably always take my breath away for a minute. And that's okay.