Bloom

Jonas turned one year old on Saturday, prompting a host of emotions. I can remember the days leading up to his birth with near-perfect clarity. Yet, the weeks that followed -- when he used to sleep in his bouncy chair on the kitchen table, when he was so tiny he slept in his Moby carrier for hours on his daddy's chest, when all but his tiniest newborn clothes hung off him -- seem distant, and believably a year ago.

Of course there is a part of me that wants to freeze him in time. Every year as my birthday approached, my mother used to say, "Ok, I'll make you a deal. You can turn [insert upcoming age here] but then you are stopping." It was a joke, but I was always so eager to get on to the next age. To be a big kid and sit at the back of the bus. To be old enough to go to high school. To be old enough to drive. To be old enough to leave home and go to college. To be old enough to drink. To be old enough not to feel so young and foolish and clumsy anymore. Now, of course, I'm approaching the age where I would happily take her up on that offer. But it took nearly 30 years to get there.

The day before his birthday, Jonas decided it was time to start truly walking. He had taken his first steps on August 1, when we were up visiting my grandmother in Arlington. And since then, if you set him on his feet and he was in the mood, he would take a few steps - five or six or seven - before dropping to his knees and crawling the rest of the way to the desired destination or object. Crawling was faster and easier. But on Friday, something switched over and he spent more than 50% of his time walking. On Saturday, it was 75%. And Sunday, it was 90%.

This has come amid a flurry of changes. Beginning during our trip to Iowa earlier in August, Jonas started eating much better. Never a picky eater, neither was he a big eater. But, perhaps inspired by the farmhouse, he took to eating much larger meals during our time there. He also started behaving much better in the car. Both of those changes have continued since we returned to Virginia. He also began speaking more clearly, and added at least five words to his vocabulary in the 1o days we were in Iowa. That increased vocalization -- I'd say his vocabulary is about two dozen words -- has also continued.

As much as I want him to stay right as he is today, watching this flower of life unfold is so miraculous, so enchanting that I wouldn't want to rob him of the chance to change, to grow, to blossom. It is a new state of emotion when you have a child: wanting something for that person. On behalf of that person. Yes, if you are fortunate enough to find a true partner in life, you experience that feeling. But when it is a child you are raising, the feeling is so much stronger and so much more prevalent.

I want things for myself, I want things for Egidijus. I want things for my family and my friends. And I am devoted to doing what I can to bring about those things for the people I love. But there is no length I would not go to for Jonas. It is just one of many new emotions that his addition has prompted.

So many new things. What did I do with my time before? What did I think about? What did I desire? Were all the places he occupies within me empty before, or did his birth simply create new spaces?