When Luke did this the first few times, I was so excited.
Literally, squealing and clapping and smiling and getting goosebumps.
Is that so silly!? I was just so proud!
I felt like I had to take a picture right away, as if the moment would pass and I might never get a picture again. I took video and sent it to my family, I called Adam on the phone to tell him, he did it again, he did it again!
And now, he does it all the time. Of course, that's what babies do. I know.
I guess there's something about milestones, though.
When this little man starts to do something he's never done before ....
I am the crazy silly goober mom who gets excited and emotional.
OH little Luke. You are eight months old today. You are the most handsome thing in the world.
You are tiny. You still wear 3-6 month clothes and size 2 diapers.
In fact, I tried to put on 3-6 month jeans yesterday and they are still too big.
But you eat like a trojan, so I'm thinking you'll grow into them soon.
You are still breastfed, though I just started adding some formula to your food for the extra protein.
You will eat just about anything and although you get lots of baby food, you are starting to eat table food just a little bit.
Speaking of table food, you are getting a pincer grasp. You can pick up anything.
You are getting up on your hands and knees! This started last week and we are so proud of you!
You roll all over the place, scoot backwards easily, and will be crawling any day now.
You can sit up on your own, but you still fall backwards quite a bit.
You are so expressive.
You say lots of things in your own language.
Da, la, ya, ooh, ah.
Several times, I swear you've said daisy.
You love the microwave. You are fascinated by it.
When you are nervous, you put two fingers in your mouth and stare at what's making you nervous.
Mostly, it's strangers.
You're scared of the vacuum but you love the blow dryer.
You love your dad, your Honey, and your babysitter.
We are in therapy every other week for right now! Yay!
You have a splint that you wear just about all day every day, and you don't seem to mind much.
We still pray healing over your leg.
You take a paci for just a few minutes to go to sleep, and you love your blanket.
You sleep for 11-12 hours at night, and take 2-3 short naps every day.
Nothing, and I mean nothing makes you happier than being outside.
We did it again! This is the fourth year in a row that someone in our household has done the Ten for Texas. I've only done it three times. Last year, I stayed on the sidelines because there was a little something in my belly. ;) And this year, for the first time ever, Adam and I crossed the finish line together!
My dad ran, too, and finished just moments after we did. Luke was at the finish (thanks Honey!) and there could not have been a sweeter reward!
Right after Blake died, someone gave me a book on grief. It said that
there would come a time when I would go 24 hours without thinking of
him. I'm convinced that the author had never lost a loved one. I might have gone 24 minutes a few times, but even that is rare.
If it's after dark and the home phone rings, I panic and usually make Adam answer it.
A young boy at HEB yesterday looked at Luke, who was hanging out in the Baby Bjorn while I picked out avocados, and told me he was a handsome little guy. I said thanks and looked at his name tag. It said BLAKE. I cried, right there in the produce.
I get so angry when I hear people complain about their siblings. I work with a girl who complains about her sister all the time. I want to yell and scream and tell her to be thankful. Because that's the one person in this world who came from the same stuff you came from. And if she were gone, you'd feel pretty damn lonely.
I look at Luke and wonder how a person survives after losing a child. I'm not sure that I would. And it gives me a whole new sadness for my parents.
Adam has always fixed everything. When I'm in trouble, he comes to my rescue. If I'm overwhelmed, he takes care of me. But he cannot even understand this, much less fix it. And that's been a hard lesson to learn.
Luke looks like my brother did when he was a baby. I hate to say that out loud because I'm afraid people will think I'm crazy or weird or super nostalgic or something. I'm not. I'm just telling the truth. If Blake were here, no one would think that was weird, but I feel like I have to be hush hush about it because Blake is not here. And all of that makes me a little cranky.
When I hear the word suicide, I think I need to throw up. No matter what the context.
Who coined the term good grief? It's stupid.
I love the Lord. I declare that God is good. I know that He is sovereign and holy and mighty and here. I stand on the promise that in quietness and trust I will find my strength (Isaiah 30:15). But I really really miss my little brother.