Four months...

When you're pregnant (or in my husband's case, about to be a parent... There was no pregnancy for him), everyone tells you how fast it goes. You smile, and shake your head, as you do with all the other pieces of advice and tips that everyone gives you, thinking they are clever and that no one else told us the same thing. I mean, how fast could it really go, right?

My son entered his fourth month of life on Sunday. Four peasly months. In the grand scheme of things, four months is still brand new. If it were a four month old appliance or phone, it would probably still have a protective sticker on it. Four months. Our little man is rolling, making noises like he's having a full blown conversation with you and expects you to understand (and respond). His facial expressions are priceless, as are his laughs. His cries break my heart, and when he lays his head on my shoulder, I melt. In four short, yet crazy long, months, everything we thought we knew about life changed. We are wrapped around the tiny little finger of a four month old.

Now, our four month old is not petite. At his check up yesterday, he weighed in at 19lbs 11oz and measured 27", which would explain my need to visit the chiropractor on a weekly basis. He's growing way to fast. I told him to stop, but he just won't listen. Today he got his first taste of food. After discussion with our pediatrician and my own little research, I decided we'd try oatmeal. I made it (found something I can actually cook) and was surprised how well he took it. Although, the initial look on his face said, "what the hell!?" I was impressed at how he attacked the spoon (though, at nineteen pounds, it shouldn't surprise me he likes to eat).

At four months he is constantly craning his neck to take in the world around him, and has a new found interest in what the dog's up to. He is having fun playing with his toys (and by playing I mean putting in his mouth) and I take every opportunity to change him into a new outfit because he's growing out of his 3-6 month clothes way, way, WAY too fast.

Why am I writing this tonight, and why does it seem to have no point at all. Because my little man is asleep in his crib, and I hate it. The bassinet next to my bed is empty and I really want to go get him out of his crib and keep him next to me.  I like being able to roll over and see him breath, check to make sure he's not to hot or to cold, or put his binky back in his cute little sleeping mouth. It's so much better than rolling over to a beaming baby monitor.

How is it possible that in four short months, no amount of time spent with this new little creature is enough? What did I do before I was a mom?