Happy Birthday to my Baby

Two years ago on this day, I was lying in a hospital bed with a warm, fresh-from-the-womb, baby Zeb on my chest. He was the fattest baby I had ever seen at 10 lbs., 10 oz and 21 inches long. He was all chub and rolls, and I wanted to eat him. Today he is two years old, and I still want to eat him. "No eat my ear, mom," he told me last night when I went in for a nibble. Zeben is, and has always been, such a joyful addition to our family. Quick to smile, and quick to make all the rest of us laugh, he has made this journey so much more fun. We feel so lucky to have him here with us.


We still refer to Zeb as "the baby," and in many ways he still is such a baby. A talking baby, but a baby nonetheless. And it is so much fun to get to hear all of his little baby thoughts--things that I'm sure he's been thinking about for quite some time, but that he's only recently been able to verbalize. The other day I was nursing him down for a nap on my mom's bed, and the wind was whipping and whistling around the outside of the house. I could tell from his expression, while he sucked away, that he was trying to figure out what this noise was and if it was scary or not. Eventually, he popped off and said, "I hear Mana's [Zeb's pronunciation of 'Nama'] tea!" How cool to experience him making these connections! Lukas and Jasper are the most appreciative of any developmental leap that Zeben takes. "Zeben is really like a kid now," Jaz said to me the other day, "he's only got a teensy bit of baby left in him." It's true. And I will cherish those last remaining bits of baby for as long as I can, even as I celebrate all of the bigness that Zeben is becoming.


For the past few nights, Zeben has reverted to nursing continuously through the night. I can only hope that it is due to teething and isn't simply his new plan for what nighttime sleeping should look like. I say "reverted," though truthfully he never really was a big nighttime nurser before, certainly not as a newborn or an infant. And I say "nursing," though in actuality I think what he's doing is more about attaching himself to my breast via his mouth than it is about transferring milk to his belly. He doesn't necessarily do a whole lot of sucking, but when I try to unlatch him, he wakes up and roots around gruntily until he's suctioned himself back on. Just like when he was new. And while, a year ago, a phase of nighttime neediness probably wouldn't have affected me much at all, I've noticed a shift in my tolerance levels now that Zeben is the big two-year-old that he is. Zeben's needs no longer feel quite as needy to me, rather they're seeming quite wantish, and I struggle between giving in to him or giving in to my frustration and limiting his access to my body. For the past 2 years and 9 months, my body has belonged to me and to Zeben, pretty equally. And now, I suppose, I am feeling like maybe I want it to be a little more mine again. 60-40 maybe? 70-30? And yet the thought of turning him away makes me want to weep and scoop him up in my arms, and squeeze him tight and make him promise to be my baby forever.


"I love you, Mom" he says after kissing me on the nose.
"How much?" I ask, "how much do you love me?"
"A big one," he says, smiling, "and a tiny one too."

Here is a video we made the other day of Zeb singing. He loves to make movies of himself singing and then watch them over and over again:



And, because I can't help myself:

Zeben the newborn:
Zeben the one-year-old:
And, now, Zeben the two-year-old:
Happy Birthday, Zeben Sky!