A tooth

(First, an apology.  It's my goal to get at least one blog post up a week and I've been off the past couple weeks!  I'll keep on trying.)

Last week, at the end of Sebastian's first real cold (more than just the sniffles), amidst congestion, a rather unhappy sounding cough, and cries that just sounded so very very sad, Sebastian sported his first tooth.  Yup, one little razor sharp baby tooth on his lower gums.  There seems to be a second one not far behind, its neighbor, and all of this makes him somewhat unhappy.  He's not generally a very fussy baby and even with teeth it's not that bad, but you can tell it's not a fun time for him...at least, not when the Tylenol wears off.

This is also causing some discomfort for me, which I was surprised to realize. The arrival of his teeth, even just one or two, means he is growing up and I'll admit I'm a little sad for this to happen.  I know I know it is cliche to say that time is passing so quickly, it's just flying by, blah blah blah.  But blah blah blah, it is - and for some reason with Sebastian, his milestones just seem to be coming at me so much faster than Haven's.  He's not hitting his milestones early, either - he's right on schedule - but it just feels fast, faster.  So when his tooth showed up, I felt sad - sad that we are moving so quickly past the little snuggly lump of babyness with their benign gummy kisses and slobbering.  I feel like I'm going to blink and he will suddenly be a little boy, with a big toothy grin as he runs all over the yard, terrorizing Zoe (this assumes Zoe lives forever, because in my mind she does and let's not break that illusion just yet, okay?).  Kind of like how Haven runs and jumps and bounces, smiles and cries and speaks complete stories, sleeps in a big girl bed and will one day (soon) pee on a big girl potty - and once, not so long ago, she was this little bitty peanut of a baby that we barely knew what to do with except to keep kissing her soft soft head.

And so, while I simultaneously wish Sebastian would sleep through the night and Haven would be a little more independent, I also long to hold on to these moments that run through my fingers - moments of baby snuggles and toddler songs.

Sometimes, sometimes, I wish I could stop time.