Colt is approaching 9 months old and I've been a little panicky about it. I am in a perpetual state of desperation that I am missing something or am not properly documenting everything or am letting time and milestones and memories pass me by. I frantically take pictures and videos and document every last tooth and smile and wiggle on my little blog. I get through each day of work by knowing that I get to rock him to sleep at night (and I have myself convinced that he enjoys it as much as I do.) And as maniacally thrilled as I am when he does new things like pull up and crawl and cruise – I am simultaneously heartbroken that my baby is growing up.
And then I watched The Biggest Loser this week. There is a Father/Son duo that was recently split up onto two different teams, and they now compete against each other. But since they are Father and Son, they still look out for one another. The Son's team won the challenge this week, and part of the prize was a year's supply of groceries for each member of the team. The Son – only 18 years old and the youngest contestant in the history of the show – doesn't really need a year's supply of groceries. But there is a girl on the losing team who desperately needs the free groceries – with 5 kids at home. She was devastated when her team lost as that prize would mean the world to her and her family.
So after they showed the winning team celebrating all over the losing team and cheering and hollering and jumping around about their prize package — they followed with a scene between the 18 year old kid and the Mom. He gave her his prize of groceries. Not because there was anything in it for him regarding the game or the TV show – but because it was the right thing to do. And when the Mom went back to her team to give them her good news, the Son's Father just beamed with a proud look that said, "that's my boy."
And I cried.
And I realized that it's ok that Colt is growing up. Because I can't wait for him to know what it means to be kind and giving and polite. I can't wait for him to learn to share and to say 'yes ma'am' and 'please' and 'I'm sorry'. I can't wait for tomorrow – and the next day. Because each day is amazing – but different. He'll never be 8 months and 2 weeks old again. But he'll be 9 months and then 10 months and then 10 years. And I can't wait until the day I will cry because my little boy's kind heart makes me so proud to be his Mama.