Let The Cruise Begin

Ian has emerged from his cocoon.  He spent the winter swaddled and relaxed in any seat that would hold him.  He seemed to be settled in that position for the long haul.  But this past week, like a monarch butterfly appearing in the spring as something completely different than it once was, he has become an entirely different creature than the baby that has hung out with us the past 4 months.  I had already written about his love for rice cereal; it was love at first bite and the two have become inseparable each mealtime since.  If the pasty cereal dries long enough over the length of his face,  the coverage area of an average meal, it requires warm wash cloths and carefully applied elbow grease to pull them apart.

He talks now.  Nothing you or I would understand, but it is noise enough to interrupt conversations or radio and television programming.  He seems unconcerned with letting us know exactly what he wants, but instead, he seems to be testing his ability to get our attention in case the day comes when he can relay his thoughts a little clearer.  I can hardly wait.

He rolled over from his belly to his back last week.  Grandma called one day to give us the big news.  I realized then that this ship has set sail.  He is no longer docked, and like Elliott, it is sure to be an unpredictable journey.  He will make stops along the way that will make us want to scream, cry and laugh, often on the same day.  Elliott is helping me understand that this isn't a discounted weekend getaway, or even a two week cruise through the Caribbean, this is a ship set sail for a very long journey.  And although maps are helpful, they aren't necessarily great predictors of where we're headed and they're even more useless at letting us know when we're lost.  I can only say thank God we're a ship on open water, at least we can float around for a time while we figure it out, and with little risk of bumping into anything.