Time, and the Quiet March He Makes.

I'm disappointed in Time.  He's a seeming friend one day, and an enemy the next!  And I, am happily sad.

My child must weigh close to fifteen pounds now!  No exaggeration, it's insane!  He is my "Precious Moose" at nine-weeks-old.  To credit my estimation, I plan on providing an informed weight update after his two-month checkup next week. 

I've heard it a million times, from people I barely know, and from those I respect dearly, "Enjoy each minute. They grow and change so fast!"

To let you all know, I hear you!  Boy, do I ever hear you!  It's zipping by already...  But, I'm doing what you've instructed... enjoying, loving, pouring over every detail.  Between you and me however, it's just not enough!

I'm a zealous person by nature, but I feel nearly frantic to take photos, and stressed to remember each sweet coo.  I'm well aware that with each new acquired skill, Aksel is surely leaving me.  Every waking day, is one less in which he'll need his mother. So, for that reason, independence is a foe too! 

Dramatics aside, this leads me to the point of this entry.  I did just have a truly special Mommy moment, one that has sadly passed, but one, I happily look to remember always.

For the sake of relevance, a backstory...

For those of you that know me, and to those that do not, I love to sing!  As a child, I found comfort in song... in hearing music yes, but more specifically, in making music.  To better explain this notion, I remember the exact instance in which this became clear to me.

I was very young, and by that I mean, no more than four-years-old.  It was a morning like all others, and I was making my bed.  I remember the sun was shining through my window.  In fact, I nearly had to squint because it was so bright!  I tossed my blanket high in the air, and made, what I call, intentional noises.  To listen, I suppose one could say I was singing, but there were no words.  I was alone, honestly creating, expressing myself as children do.  As I continued to throw this aforementioned blanket, the vibrations of my voice enveloped me from all sides, and I had a strange feeling...  I had an epiphany of sorts!  I knew in that moment, that singing, if you could call it that, was my intrinsic talent, and my safe-haven from life's hurt (I will explain this on a later date).
 
At the time, I didn't have or understand the perception of what it was to be a "good" singer.  I couldn't even name a singer?!  I only knew that in vocalizing, and making melodic noises, I was most secure.  I found warmth, and as I said before, comfort in song.
 
With that all having been established, I just sang my sweet boy to sleep.  Therefore, this is a true milestone in my life!

I'm not your typical female, in that I didn't overly fantasize about the details of my wedding day as a young person.  In fact, I'm not even married!  That's not to say I haven't made vows.  Rather, I fantasized about motherhood, and the moments in which I would self-actualize.  As a teenager, I quietly promised/vowed to myself, that when the time came, and I was going to have a child, I would readily know every word to each lullaby. 

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I, Gillian Mulligan, must accomplish the following before I die:

• Lovingly, sing my child to sleep.
• Perform on Broadway.
• Live intentionally.
• Love wholeheartedly.
• Help those in need.
• Travel the world.
• Write about it all.

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So, I guess I can mark that one off the list.

I am happy to accomplish this, but sad it's over.  My mortality is in check now, and I know he'll never let up -- Time, and the quiet march he makes.

I have so much more to write about... it excites me, but there are bottles to sterilize and fingernails to paint!