Sunsets and Savoring

I was thinking tonight, as I watched Noah and Ryan playing at the edge of Cherry Creek Reservoir with the sun setting behind them, that this is such a special time in our lives.  This is the only time that we will have one baby—just one to admire, adore, and worry over.  He is our whole world.  We have long conversations about his needs: How can we help him sleep better?  How can we get him to eat more vegetables?  How can we teach him to be reverent in church?  He is at such a fun age right now--still a baby but almost a boy--and we marvel at every new word he says, every new milestone he reaches.  We laugh at his gibberish speech, his facial expressions, even his dramatic tantrums.  We talk about how he is the cutest, smartest, funniest baby in the world (and he is, right?).  It’s all just so new and novel to us.  It’s such a special, even sacred time when we are learning to be parents and experiencing all of the “firsts” of parenthood together.

When we got home from the reservoir, we wanted to get him to bed as quickly as possible, so we double-teamed the bedtime routine. We worked together to wash his face, change his diaper, put on his pjs, and brush his teeth, all while cooing over him, talking to him, and kissing him.  He was grinning up at us with a look of total contentment, lapping up all of the attention from both of his parents. And I thought again how much I am loving this time in our lives—a time when Ryan and I are able to put our baby to bed together. 

In a few years, I hope we will have a house full of children—I hope our home is loud and chaotic and bustling at bedtime—but for right now, I am savoring the sweet, still moments that Ryan and I are able to share with our precious little boy—and thanking God that he is ours.