My Dear Toby,
One day (and there will probably be many of them) you will hear lamentations of how the first born child has the most pictures taken, stories written, entries in the baby book while the second born has fewer because time is now divided between children, which leaves less of it to spend on things like journaling. Now, unlike when your father and I were younger, pictures have become so much easier to take, so I'm not concerned about not having as many pictures of you as I do your brother, I've got that area pretty well covered. The writing down of stories and entering milestone dates in a baby book, however, I'm not doing so great at keeping up. The last entry I made in this blog was 5 months ago and it was about your delivery 3 months before that.
So, this is my apology to you for not carving out more time to write about our little discoveries along the way. It would be easy to say it's because we would rather simply 'live in each moment' than spend time with nose pressed to a computer or smart device screen, but the reality is I'm forgetful and I lose track of how quickly time flies. My promise to you is I will always strive to be better about documenting our journey with you and Flynn, but know that I will, sadly probably often, fall a little short.
Let's play a bit of catch up. You, Tobias Hunter, are such an incredible child. Just like your brother you are sweet, gentle, loving, and not just happy, but bursting with joy. You rarely cry and if/when you do it is usually fairly manageable to make you content once again. A friend of mine once described me to someone else as 'shooting laser beams of joy from her eyes', rest assured you inherited that from me. Joy and happiness will be a common theme in stories I write and tell about you because you are the embodiment of those things. I don't think I'll ever run out of ways to express that about you because you seem to never run out of ways to make that fact known. Everyone you meet feels the effects of your joy, most of all your brother, father and me. We could be in the worst of rainy day moods and one flirty-eyed, slobbery grin from you can make us smile and breath a little easier. Thank you for bringing so much MORE sunshine into our family.
Right now, at nearly 8 months old, your favorite things are smiling,
tooting (you are one SERIOUSLY gassy child...), eating, laughing, and CHEWING ALL THE THINGS. Seriously, so much chewing, though I suppose that's to be expected when you appear to be trying to cut all of your teeth at once! A couple of weeks ago your very first tooth (lower middle-right [your right], if you really want to know) finally broke gum. I didn't cry like I did when Flynn's came in, though I am still a little sad to be losing your gummy grins. The second time feels a little easier to accept. Two days later your second tooth (lower middle-left) broke through. Two teeth right next to each other at once, you are a determined little dude. Just about two weeks later and I'm pretty positive I can feel the edge of one of your upper teeth. By the way you get fussy here and there, and the fact that pretty soon we will need to invest in a house boat with how much you drool, I wouldn't be surprised if you will be ready for more advanced food explorations before the summer hits.
Your new little mouth-razors are doing a miraculous thing: making me glad we are still using a shield when nursing. I don't think you are biting me, but it wouldn't feel as painful if/when you did. In the last month you have actually nursed for a couple of prolonged periods of time without it, which were glorious, but you quickly reverted to insisting on having it. That proves to me again, just like your brother, you are one strong-willed and opinionated soul. Heaven help us.
You are getting better every day at sitting up by yourself, though not yet without the safety of pillow-ed surroundings or someone sitting behind you for when you lose your balance and try to fall flat on your face. Your balance checks are working more often than not, which is progress, and soon you'll be so stable I'll be able to let you sit and play with Flynn while I try to get some chores done. Not that I'll want to do chores, I'd rather spend time with the two of you, but this house is a wreck and needs some TLC. You are also getting closer to crawling. You enjoy playing on the floor for longer periods of time, have been proficient at rolling from your back to your front for weeks and weeks, and are slowly starting to figure out going the other direction, just the opposite of Flynn. While on your tummy you like to lift all four limbs in the air and kick as if you are trying to swim. It is adorable, you look so determined. You are also starting to push yourself up really high on your fully extended arms and I can see the wheels turning in your head over the concept of getting your knees up under you, tush in the air, the inevitable per-cursor to crawling. You have definitely started to travel, though not with any real intent. Mostly you kind of cruise the path of least resistance: scooting backwards or changing the way you are facing depending on where the most exciting activity in the room is. Usually it's your brother and you could give yourself whiplash with how fast you snap your head around to watch him, wherever he is.
I started this post with the intent of making it ENTIRELY about you, but I've found that is nearly impossible as Flynn simply IS a part of your life. Always has been, always will be. I'm actually kind of thankful that neither of you will be able to remember a time without the other, I think and hope that will add to your brotherly bond. A bond that is already growing so strong. I love the way you watch his every move with sheer wonder and awe. You smile so wide, so bright, and laugh all the way down to your toes when he looks at you. In the past couple of weeks he has started engaging with you in more direct, independent ways and it is wonderful. For a couple of months he's been good at retrieving a toy for you, if we ask, or bringing you a pacifier if our hands are full. He knows when you cry you have a need and has seen us try to fill that need with those things (paci, bottle, toy...) so he would sometimes attempt to offer one of those things when you fussed. Now, thanks in part to your growing mobility, your interactions together are growing, too. Flynn plays peek-a-boo while you laugh and laugh. He kisses you gently (then will turn around and headbutt me). He knows he has to be more careful with you, and though there are times he gets so excited he forgets himself and his proximity to you, those are uncommon moments.
Last night he dragged you in your high chair to a cubbyhole on the
bookshelf where he had positioned some of his trucks so you could see
them. He narrated to you what they were and, I imagine, explained
something along the lines of how they are fun to play with, or the
reason why he placed them there (it's anyone's guess, your father and I
still don't fully understand everything he says). The point is, he
wanted to include you in his activity, engage you, share with you
something that he found fun and enjoyable. At one point he walked away,
leaving you facing the trucks on the shelf, looking like you'd been
placed in time out, but when I pulled your chair back to face me at the
dinning table Flynn ran back, loudly proclaiming dissatisfaction that I
had the nerve to try to keep you from his beloved toys. This happened
several times and you just went along with the whole thing.
Some days I have a moment or two where I find myself thinking how I can't wait until you... are big enough to sit up by yourself so I can walk away for a second, or start crawling so I don't have to carry you everywhere, or pull yourself up and start walking so you and Flynn can play and entertain each other to give me back just a little bit more autonomy. Then I almost immediately regret the wish, try to suck it back in and deny I had any wish other than for you to take your time growing up. I hold you, a LOT, probably much more than I -need- to, though never more than I should. I should (and might argue, need) to hold you as much as I can while you are still small enough to do so. I look at Flynn, at how big and independent he is already, always on the go, and realize that stage just happened so fast. I don't want to miss a single moment of snuggle time with you, knowing that as you get older my chances to hold you for as long as I want will continue to drift away. It doesn't matter that the dishes don't get done or the pet hair collects in little hallway tumble weeds or I can barely find the living room floor through the mess of toys, shoes, and miscellaneous shenanigans. Those things can wait, even if the chaos makes me a little bit bonkers. Playing with Flynn and holding you makes me feel better, and it's far more important than that other stuff. Before we know it you both will be old enough to help with household chores and I can maybe regain at least a little bit of ground on the mess we wade through, but for right now I am content to immerse myself in your slobbery, milk-drunk, gassy grins from the proximity of my encircled arms. I would say you don't have a choice in the matter, but you do. You could scream and fuss or fidget if I tried to hold you too much, but you don't.
So, my sweet second-born, thank you for letting me hold on to you as long as I possibly can. Thank you for being ours.
Love,
Mama (and Flynn and Daddy)
