You love to play on our bed. In the morning and at night, I curl up with you in my bed to give you your bottle. When you're done, you sit up and then throw yourself back down, burying your head in one of our pillows, and shoving your feet into my side. It doesn't matter how cranky you are, if we lay down with you on our bed, your mood lifts. You wave your arms up and down, hitting them on the covers as if you're splashing in our quilt like you would in the bathtub. You will eventually nuzzle into us and lay there for a few seconds before jumping up and doing it all over again. I love those cuddle times. The memory of these times is something I keep trying to ingrain in my memory because I know it won't last forever.
We're in a good place right now, Ben. You're fairly content. The only thing that makes you cranky is that we have to hold you so much because we're always at camp. I think you'd much rather be at home on nice, level floors so that you can practice your walking skills. Oh, and you get cranky when you're hungry, too. But don't we all?
We are starting to see the stubborn side of your personality come out. You don't like to have things taken away from you, nor do you like to be held when you see something worth exploring. You have your little fits, but they're normal. They're manageable. I can handle it because 95% of the time you're very easy going and pleasant.
You're sick right now. You've had a fever since Thursday night and you woke up this morning with vomit dried to your shirt and in your hair. I've never felt as bad as I did in the moment that I realized you threw up, alone, in your bed and went back to sleep without us even knowing about it. We've spent a lot of time playing, resting and cuddling together today and every so often, you make a whiny noise and bury your head in my shoulder. I so badly wish that you could just say, "Mom, my throat hurts." Or, "Mom, my tummy is upset." It feels a little bit like veterinary science right now. We can only make educated guesses as to what's wrong. I hope you feel better soon, Ben.
We're coming to the end of your first summer as a camp kid, and you've fared much better than I had predicted. I thought you would be quiet and more reserved than Jack was, because your first 9 months were mostly at home. You've become a little ham, though. You flash your cheesy grin and charm anyone who looks your way. You play peek-a-boo with anyone who will look at you for long enough to play. Who wouldn't love you?!
On some days it feels like you were just born. But at the same time, I cannot remember what our family was like before you were a part of it. But the thing that never changes is how much I love you.