My baby turtle.

This is what my son looks like to me now that he's crawling...  



Sometimes it makes me sad and teary, especially when I'm trying to put him down for a nap or for bedtime and he just ups and crawls away. I feel like his time resting nestled in my arms all day has come to a close and the world has begun to open up immensely.

My favorite thing about babies is their beingness. That awesome reckless abandon they don't even know they have. They feel their feelings so beautifully and express them as such as well. They cry one minute, laugh the next, then vomit on themselves, then crack up, then kiss you, and then smack you in the face. I love it all.

And I'm even starting to learn to love the letting go. It used to make me sad. I think back to my existential crisis in college when I used to think the most depressing thing someone can do is be born because it became glaringly obvious then that the moment you're born you begin to die. I've asked both my children at one point or another, "Why? Why did you come back here?!?" Despite the truth of all that, I am starting to embrace this fact of life and enjoy the bittersweet feelings of how fast children grow and how quickly more greys are sprouting in my hair. We're not planning on any more babies, so seeing my little one crawling away from me with so much determination and purpose makes me sigh a deep sigh. There's relief, joy, and pride in that sigh but a definite heaviness to it as well.

Little baby turtles come out of their shell and fulfill the urge to GO. So they crawl out of the sand and go, go, GO until they reach the ocean. They don't know why they go, they just know they need to.