For every "first", there is a "last".


Anthony became a bottle-fed baby at 2.5 days old. I don't know that he adored them as much as Matthew did. He didn't inhale them with the same gusto. He didn't demand more than the "normal" amount. But during many aches and pains, and periods of teething hell, it was his bottle that helped him feel at ease. It helped us all go back to sleep a little faster at 12am (and sometimes 3am, and 5am...). It was our daily equation. Anthony + bottle = content baby.

On Tuesday, May 17, Anthony drank his last bottle. He was starting to get fussy as it was nearing bedtime. I asked him if he wanted "ba-boo" and he smiled. It was 6:37pm when I warmed it for him. We sat in the living room and he drank. Typically we would have been on our bed, watching Mickey or Oso (his faves). He drank about 5 of the 7 ounces I made, slid off me and resumed playing.

That night, as I rocked him to sleep, he took his mo-mo out and smiled. He was a little restless. I asked if he wanted ba-boo again and he laughed. I warmed a couple ounces of milk, but not in his bottle. I'm not sure what made me use the Nuby (transitional) sippy, but I did. He was a bit unsure at first. He'd take a couple sips, spit it out, and giggle. But he didn't hate it. So that was that. The next morning, his Avent bottles were put away.

Just like that, we no longer have a bottle-feeding baby. We often get so hung up on the "firsts", we hardly give any attention to the "lasts". I will never forget his last bottle feeding.



(This post is seriously overdue.)

On Wednesday, May 4, 2011 at 6:12am, Matthew turned 4 years old. In the weeks leading up to his birthday, he was quite adamant that he was NOT going to be 4. He just wanted to stay 3. Can't say I blame him. He was a little under the weather that day, and it was a cloudy, gloomy, rainy day so we just took it easy at home. We did start the day off right, though, with "breakfast cake" topped with one candle. We were not allowed to sing Happy Birthday, he just wanted to blow out his candle and leave it at that. The real festivities were yesterday...his pirate themed birthday party. Like a repeat of his actual birthday, he's sick again. But you could not tell by looking at him as he played with his cousins and tore into his gifts. He can be quite the trooper - especially where chocolate cake is involved. Today he's enjoying playing with all his presents (sports equipment, sand toys, a pirate ship, and even a gold fish he named Swimmy) as we have a lazy day at home.

I still can't believe I have a 4 year old. I often find myself staring at him, wondering how I could have let these past 4 years go by so quickly. Surely, I could have done something to slow things down, savor each day a little more, make a hug last 4 seconds longer. He went from a diaper-wearing, mo-mo sucking, wrinkly chicken legged little squishy newborn, to a 4 year old...all in the blink of an eye. I so miss him being curled up on my chest, his legs under his belly, and his soft breath on my neck. I so miss his first smile, first words, first everything. Now we get to enjoy his tight hugs, his belly laughs, and silly jokes. I love watching his imagination unfold as he plays. The pure joy and pride when he tries and succeeds at something new. I love watching him show genuine concern when someone is hurt or sad, and how he tries to make it better with a kiss. More often than not, it works. He's my little momma's boy. He's sweet, loving, funny, feisty, moody, cuddly, smart...he's everything I could ever hope for in a child. And now, he's 4. A big boy, doing big boy things. But he's still our baby.