Though I love the happy, smiling snapshots we’ve taken of Tuco, this picture is still my favorite. My husband took it just minutes after Tuco was born. I feel like the look on Tuco’s face expresses exactly how I was feeling at that moment: What just happened? What is going to happen? And though the details are too much for me to process right now, I know that my world has completely changed.
Tuco and I have come a long way since that picture was taken. In the last five months, we’ve become buddies. I can anticipate and understand his needs, and he can forgive me for making him take a nap.
He is in a fun stage right now. He’s doing something new every day, and smiles and laughs are abundant, which is my favorite part. I do look forward to his future development, when he can play games, ask me “why?” too many times, and give me a hug out of the blue (oh god, I have never wanted a hug more from anyone before). But with each milestone he reaches comes a twinge of nostalgia for newborn Tuco. Already I miss the cornsilk-like hairs that grew on the back of the head. I miss how he would sleep in his crib with his lips puckered and his tiny fists up by his round, Karl Pilkington head. I miss how he would make old man grunting sounds as he rooted on his little fingers when he was hungry. And most of all, I miss him falling asleep on me periodically with his legs in a frog position (see the picture to the left).
I suspect that these motherly longings for past phases will only get worse as Tuco gets older. If I’m this bad at five months, I bet I will be a wreck by the time he’s five years old.
Happy five-month birthday, m’boy.