Since it seems to be all the rage to have your child be super advanced, Robert and I have started a little joke in which we take everything Joe does and blow it way out of proportion. Apparently, we are NOT the parents who are looking to brag that our child did x by z age, or did xyz early, or go around telling people how ahead our baby is. All I can tell you about Joe's head involves my experience pushing him out, and you don't want to hear about it.
So, here is our super advanced baby, you know, driving a car, and, of course, talking up a storm.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
|Joe, day 1|
today i packed the newborn clothes. you still seem so tiny, yet they are impossibly even smaller than you.
today i folded the first outfit you ever wore and i remembered that strange, sleepless, dream-like hospital stay in which you entered the world. where we met face to face for the first time.
has 10 weeks gone by? or has it been one? or a thousand? it's so fast, yet so much has changed it's hard to imagine it's been only 10 weeks. it's hard to imagine a time you were not here.
|Joe, a few weeks old|
|Joe, a few weeks ago|
sweet baby, every morning my heart echos the psalms that the Lord is good and his mercy endures forever. i hope you hear this resounding in your ears as you grow.
sweet baby, every day that you grow up a little bit more, my heart aches in a bittersweet way. i remind myself that the best is yet to come, because God's promises endure and his mercies are new every morning.