I’ve found that since I have a granddaughter, her every change results in a memory jolt for me. A trip in the way-back machine to when my son was the same age. But I don’t just think about the memory, I also have to share it out loud, and I notice I yack about it even when I try to stop myself.
Coco has teeth coming in, she’s fussy with them, and immediately I say, “Ben never complained when he got his first tooth.” And, when she began acting as if she was ready to crawl I just had to share, “Ben NEVER crawled. When he was ready to move around, he stood up and took first steps.”
I could go on and on with examples. And, it’s not that I’m comparing them or even weighing Coco’s progress against what Ben did at each stage — it’s just that watching her grow gives me these tiny memory bursts that I had totally forgotten all about!
I remember it used to drive me freaking crazy when my Mom would introduce me as her “baby”. Heh. That’s something else I figured out with age I guess — your baby is still your baby no matter the age or the stage. (Ben snapped the photos below on his computer using ‘Photo Booth’.)
