6 months, day 28 - Aging prematurely

I don't know whether the title of today's post refers to me or to Augie. I certainly have more grey hairs than I used to, but I think that coincides with meeting James moreso than with having Augie. In the last 36 hours or so little Augie has done so much that I find myself sitting in the kitchen with a glass of white wine, palm to forehead, wondering where the time has gone -- where it's going. Augie's made a couple huge leaps, and I'm still reeling from them.

Augie's been so consumed by physical developments that I mentioned to James last week that he really isn't babbling much and doesn't seem anywhere near his first word. That's pretty common with boys from what I hear, so I didn't think much of it. But then over the weekend he started to say "ning" a lot. Intentionally. That's not really a word, at least not in English or American, so we didn't think much of it - but we did start calling him Little Ning. But then he spent most of today saying "mamammmmm" (or "momomommmm") while looking at me and giggling (okay, and also while looking at the ground and eating grass); he said it enough that I'm officially declaring that Augie's first word was "mom"! (Well, "momomomom" to be precise). I don't really care what his first word is/was -- I'm just amazed that he's suddenly talking!

But Augie's other big feat of the day is far more terrifying, and it's what has me sprouting more grey hairs as I type, holding my forehead in my palm. I had a terrible time settling him down for his afternoon nap - I could tell he was tired, but he just wouldn't go to sleep. A few minutes after putting him in the crib the first time, I came back to find this:

You can't quite tell in this picture, but his right foot is planted on the crib mattress: he's trying to stand up.

None of the normal tricks to settle him to sleep worked (nursing, walking him out, singing lullabies), so I let him play for a bit:

I went to do something in the kitchen until a new sound rattled from the playroom. I dashed to the playroom to find him gripping the top of a toy kitchen, trying to pull himself up! The rattling was the toy pots clanking together. He can't stand on his own yet - he doesn't seem close - so I was really surprised to see him trying.

I tried nursing him again, but he just wouldn't settle down - he kept grabbing my bra strap and pulling, trying to pull himself up. I gave up and put him in the crib, hoping he'd calm himself.

A few minutes later I came back to see this:

Yeah, that's what you think it is: he just pulled himself up to standing! But he only learned to sit last week! Isn't there supposed to be at least a month-long grace period during which Mama and Baba slowly become accustomed to the idea of their baby doing things for himself, where we take a few days to baby-proof the apartment and gaze lovingly as the little tiger sits contented in his new skill? When we show him how to pull himself up by helping him a bunch of times, and then he takes a couple weeks to practice before he actually does it?

That's not going to happen, is it? He's going to keep blazing ahead, watching and learning and practicing, trying to do everything he can at Mach 2 while Mama and Baba try their hardest to hold on, to keep up, to slow down, to nestle into his neck and inhale his soft baby smell and remember, capture, savor each shining passing moment before, one day, he spreads his wings and jumps out of the nest - and flies.

(For the record, immediately after he stood up, I nursed him for about 30 seconds and he finally fell asleep.)