when we went to the state fair the other night i got thinking about a year ago. typically we have gone to the fair with the kids during the day, then returned without kids at night. last year alex was still brand new so we had him with us. well ... about the same time as the fair is when we were trying to "figure alex out". we were trying to figure out why he was so uncomfortable and how we could help him. SO ... instead of stacey and i returning to the fair we ended up walking around target waiting for a prescription and then giving alex his first dose of prevacid :) (and of course ending the night with our all time favorite chili's fajitas).
this all made me think.
it's funny the things i remember. and ... it is funny the things i don't. as i began to think about a year ago it's crazy how so much of alex's first few months are such a blur to me. it actually makes me a little sad when i think about it. he rarely slept and so much of our time was consumed with trying to keep him happy. so much of our time was spent just trying to do anything we could so that he would sleep (and so we could too). and those are the things i remember. it makes me sad to think that we're leaving the "baby stage" of our life and that the memories that i have are somewhat skewed ;)
don't get me wrong here - i wouldn't change alex for the world. when i was ready to give up on the possibility of having a 3rd baby he reminded me that everything is possible. he brought such a smile to my heart.
i just wish that i didn't have to remember the bad with the good. i wish that i could look back on "the baby days" and only think of the snuggles, kisses, soft touches, and sweet smells.
i love you little alex and it's been so fun to watch you grow over the past year.
but i wish i could go back for just one night and have you ... content ... to snuggle and love ... and just stare at. to take in every little detail. your little fingers. your little toes. to just feel you breathing on my chest. to just listen to your sighs.
that's what i wish for today.

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