I held you as a snuggly, warm newborn, with eyes more closed than open, and tightly clenched fists. Your legs were still frog-like, your arms moved jerkily around. You were entirely dependent on your daddy and me, for your meals, for your bink, for warmth and safety. And I thought this was the best age.
Then you became an infant - still warm and snuggly, but awake and interested. You started smiling - a happier moment I just couldn't have imagined. You became aware of us as your Mama and Daddy. You began cooing and kicking. And I thought this age was even better.
Then, you became a baby. A babbling baby, who held his head up, stood with help, and even started to laugh. As I lay on the floor to play with you, to read with you, I thought, "THIS has got to be the best age!"
But then, you became you. You are sitting up, talking, playing, and almost crawling. You have distinct likes and dislikes, interests and opinions. You click your tongue and imitate words and always smile when I smile at you. You reach your arms out to be held and you gaze with innate interest and curiousity at everything I do. Even though you can't say the words yet, I can tell you love us.
And I'm absolutely positive that this is the best age. How can it possibly get any better?