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| Whit and I |
September 15, Whit and I will be together a whole year.
It was a beautiful day, that first day Whit came….I was in the swing on the front porch when Angie dropped him off. I held him just long enough for Angie to get out of the drive way good…Whit was tiny, just three months old. I was afraid I would drop him, So I propped him up on two pillows in the swing and we just looked at each other… he grinned and I grinned back…I was so nervous, I hadn‘t taken care of a baby in years and years…What would I do if he started crying for his mommy?…He seemed to be happy on the pillows ….So, the only time I picked him up was to burp him….I didn’t even change his diaper…we just grinned at each other and swung until his mommy returned. It was a good day.
That first day , Whit and I became buddies….When Whit began crawling I was proud as punch….when he stood up by himself, I was proud as punch, when he gave up his bottle, I was proud as punch, when he started to walk, I was proud as punch….…I would brag about all of his accomplishments to anybody who would listen.
A couple of months ago, it was soon after he began walking, Whit came to spend the day …I looked at his little knees they were all skinned up…I hugged him and I cried…. not because his knees were skinned, he is after all, a boy who lives on a farm with goats, dogs….he is going to have skinned knees, cuts and bruises. I cried because I realized he was no longer a baby…My Whit was a little boy.
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Whit with the goats photo taken byWhit's mommy Angie Zadrozny |
Well, the day rocked on, after lunch I was giving Whit a bath…he has to have a bath after he eats, he is learning to feed himself now
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| Photo taken by Lesley Cannada |
…and often some of his lunch ends up in his hair….on his feet…everywhere.
after I got his fresh clothes on….Something came over me…I wanted him to be a baby…I put him on the floor and he followed me to the kitchen…Whit had not had a bottle in a long time. I made a bottle, picked Whit up and carried him to the rocking chair, as he was taking the bottle, I cuddled and rocked him… I sang Bringing in the Sheaves , just like when he was a tiny baby…he cooed and grinned just like when he was a tiny….then when the bottle was about ¾ gone…Whit slapped the bottle away and climbed down…when he got to the floor he looked up and grinned….I knew it was the last time I would be treating Whit like the tiny baby he once was …
I knew he would not stand for it again. And I was proud as punch….
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| Whit with his very favorite rock....little boys like rocks..... |
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