Cora is napping as I sit on the living room floor next to a squawking, reaching, playful little baby and avoid doing work that I should be doing.
It's so hard to get anything done when Cora is asleep and Ruby is awake. I don't get as much time alone with her as I'd like, so to put her down and ignore her for an hour seems wrong. I can't keep myself from playing with her to watch her smile and squeal at me, to watch her kick her legs and use her hands, and learn about the world around her.
Like I knew it would, her babyhood feels like it's going at warp speed. Everyone says that it's just not fair to compare your kids, especially when one has delays, but how in the world do you avoid doing that?
How is it possible to not be aware that Ruby at less than 4 months old is the size Cora was at 9 or 10 months? I just put her in 6 month jammies this morning and they fit. It's hard not to be surprised and a bit impressed.
It's impossible not to notice that Ruby rolled over for the first time at less than a week old, and continues to do new things at what seems like an astonishing rate. Like sitting and standing. This girl is not happy lying down and will actively try and do sit ups to get herself upright. If you pull her up by her hands she plants her feet and stiffens her frame and refuses to bend her knees. She insists on standing. For goodness sake, Miss Cora refused that until she was about 2 years old.
So I am definitely aware of the comparisons. I am aware of all the things that are coming so easily to Ruby. Things that took Cora a lot longer, and a lot of work. Things that we spent hours in therapy and countless more at home working on. With Ruby it's all effortless. Nursing, growing, learning, developing.
What a change. But in spite of noticing these things, and being aware of these things so often, it doesn't really seem to matter. I am not any more impressed with Ruby, or with Cora for that matter. I am loving witnessing each new little thing that Ruby does, even though she didn't have to work her little butt off for months or years to figure it out. And that's OK. It's still thrilling to watch your baby do something new. It's still exciting to see her finally get her pacifier into her mouth for the first time on her own, or hear her squawked little conversations with me.
She is my baby. My big, growing, thriving baby. And I am so in love with her, just as I was (and am) with Cora.