Before Kyle turned a year, I worried a lot about his milestones, his skills, his language, his everything. I don't know what happened, but something shifted when he hit a year old. I don't know if it was realizing I wasted a lot of his first year worrying and that's a year I'll never get back or if I'm just becoming more comfortable with motherhood. Hey, after a year of being someone's mother, I'm no longer a total newbie at this gig. Regardless, I've been enjoying him a lot lately, not hung-up on what he's achieving or how he's doing or IS HE LEARNING, OMG!
I'll tell you, it's a much nicer way of going about my day.
(Although, whoa, has he turned cranky lately. Fighting bedtime, throwing fits. STOP ACTING LIKE YOUR FATHER, KYLE.)
I remember telling Mike a while ago that we should let Kyle hold his own spoon whenever he wanted. EVEN IF HE MAKES A MESS! IT'S GOOD FOR HIM!, I said all panicky and stressed. Mike looked at me funny (spoiler: Mike looks at me funny a lot) and then said, "Babe, it's OK, don't worry about it." (spoiler: Mike tells me not to worry about things a lot).
I came home from work tonight and Mike told me he had taken some pictures and videos of Kyle playing with a spoon at dinner, and when I watched them I couldn't stop laughing, and it had nothing to do with his grasp or his strength or his skill.
But at his joy.
See for yourself:
Spoiler: joy trumps everything else, a lot.