thinking less

When I was pregnant, I prepared by thinking a lot about my baby's first year -- no sleep, diapers, nursing, protecting him and helping him learn all of his firsts. I didn't think much about the second year and beyond.

Now it's staring me in the face. He's cutting some vicious teeth. He's showing resistance. He's curious about the limits of what he can get away with.

He's going to need to learn the potty. He needs to learn what's nice and what hurts -- for the cats and for me. He needs to learn how to behave in public -- how what's cute and funny at home isn't appropriate for the restaurant. He needs to know when I'm serious and when I'm playing.

I'm tired just thinking about it all.

If I were the me from a year and a half ago, I would purchase a handful of books and combine everything I read. I would scour Amazon for the best teaching toys and gear, and sort the list by best customer review instead of price. I would think on it, every day, until I felt prepared for the tasks ahead of me.

Instead I'm going with the flow, with only my instincts, which aren't always sharp. And when I think on it, it's with a bewildered sort of panic.


He'll be fine. We'll be fine. I just need to think less.


(Tiring him out helps, too. Here are photos taken after a day out with grandma and grandpa. When he lets me use my camera, I take advantage.)

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