Months 15/16

Dearest Boy-Boy,

Time has gotten away with your Mama. It's been a busy summer. There was your great-grandpa's death, and subsequent memorial service/family reunion time. There was the trip to visit Mamaw Amy and Aunt Lois and Uncle Vayden in Texas and subsequent long-ass car ride home. And then there were the in-between days in which you continued to morph from babyhood to boyhood right in front of our eyes.

Last night you took your first steps. Your very first solo steps. You walked, with hesitancy at first and then with triumph between Grandpa and me as we sat on the floor of the parlor. You started with two steps, and moved to three, and then four, and then five, and by the time Daddy and Brynn got home from Brynn's ballet lesson, you were confident enough to venture six and seven steps on your own, grinning and laughing all the while.

I delight in this new skill. And confess that I wept a few tears in the bathtub last night after putting you to bed. It's hard for me to say goodbye to my baby. And yet, I can't wait to see who you become. I suppose this is the eternal paradox of parenting. If we do our job right, you separate from us.

No offense, Gray, but sometimes cats are easier to parent.

And speaking of cats...(notice that nice transition? I was an English major, after all...) you have become the master of all things gentle in the cat world. You are a pro at petting gently, and walking gently toward Cooper and Moses, and gently and softly saying "Caaaa" as you head in their direction. I'm hoping that you'll become one of those little old men who wear their pants pulled up beyond their navels and collect cats in their old age always naming them after Old Testament prophets.

You delight me. Even as I say goodbye to my baby, I delight in the new chapter of Grayson the boy.

I love you more than the stars.
Mama