The Golden Age

When chatting recently with friends who have older kids, they admired my chill, smiley, raspberry-blowing 8 1/2 month old sweetness. It’s the golden age, they said. The perfect time. Six to 9 months is the golden time.

My baby sweetness is not yet walking, nor is he straining to be independent. He’s content to be just sitting on my lap at a party looking at other people and enjoys whatever toys we put in front of him. He is interested in and curious about everything and loves to smile and laugh. I nuzzle his belly, and he giggles. I sit in front of him on the floor, and he grabs my hands to try to stand up. He loves to eat, and he sleeps well. Golden.

Hubster and I look at him, sigh and shake our heads. How can we take this, we ask one another? How can we possibly stand how sweet, beautiful and pure he is?

The classic love story. Golden.