Momma Mondays - My Infant, My Little Man

Sarah Mlynowski with me & Knox

 So yesterday after church, my husband and I strolled into Manhattan, baby in tow, and hit up young adult author Sarah Mlynowski's publishing event for Ten Things We Did at Books of Wonder. She's an author whom I admire and I was thrilled to see her tweet about it, so our little family made a last minute dash into the city. First of all, if you haven't read her books, you should. Bras & Broomsticks made me a fan, so the Magic in Manhattan series is one I recommend. But I digress...

Sarah's two year old daughter was running around "helping." She brought books from fans to her momma for her autograph, a really sweet little go-between to be sure. This little curly blond head could be seen bobbing around the folding chairs and under tables, her father following a few steps behind just to keep the mayhem to a minimum. She was very sweet, getting close to Knox as he sat on the floor, chewing on the cover of her momma's new book. Watching her squat next to him curiously, and watching Knox reach toward her sweet face, it all made me nostalgic. But how? Knox is only 10 months? Can you be nostalgic in the future? (much like London in like Cat Patrick's debut novel Forgotten)

I don't know if it sounds crazy, but that's what happened. I saw myself this time next year, maybe at a signing or my own event, and imagined my own little guy running around the bookstore. I'm sure he'll be way more of a terror than sweet Chloe was, especially if the pushing, biting, and squealing we're seeing at 10 months is a sign; but he'll be there "helping" his momma work her hustle.

Knox, an early reader

He's just growing like a weed. His head is completely covered with thick light brown hair and his face is settling into that of a toddler... already! He has these deep blue eyes and a beautiful smile full of eight teeth. I look at this (very) young man and wonder, "Where did my baby go?" My baby couldn't clap his pudgy paws together and squeal in delight when he garnered his own applause. My baby couldn't use his index finger a la E.T. to knock down block towers or touch strangers in the cheek or grab their hair (apologies to Susane Colasanti, btw). My little baby couldn't scoot all around the room on his butt or try with all of his might to pull the Safety First outlet covers off the wall.

But at the same time, my little baby couldn't hug my neck tight or pat me on the back.

I guess there are trade offs, but I'm thoroughly understanding the old cliché, "They grow up so fast." I'm trying to hold on to my baby, but even as I watch him right now, struggling on the floor at my feet to push himself into a crawling position, I know he's gaining more and more independence every day. He's learning, growing, turning into a little man right in front of my eyes... and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

(Or is there? I mean, when he first tries to stand up, would it be wrong of me to push him back down?)

YA authors at Sarah's event