Bitten. Again.

So I mentioned on Saturday that Caleb was getting another tooth.

I was wrong.

He's getting three.

His poor top gum looks like he's been chewing on barbed wired. (Which he probably would right about now, come to think of it. Poor baby's chewing on everything that doesn't run away from him.)

You remember when I said that I cried when Jensen got his first tooth? It took a few of Caleb's teeth to bring me to tears, but I'm feeling that way again. He's growing up. I love it, but it still makes me a little wistful now and then.

I know more this time around, Caleb being my third, and that knowledge is a mixed blessing. For instance, I know that his fussiness will be over soon enough. I know that he will, most likely, not break anyone's skin with his new dentition. I know that the sleepless nights are short-lived, and that we will survive... that in a few years, or maybe in a few short months, I won't remember how tired I am or how frazzled I feel. Which is good.

But... this is where it gets a little tricky....

I also won't remember a lot of other things. Maybe I'll forget his cute little squeals of delight when I get him after his nap. Or maybe the yummy smell of his skin, or how addictively soft he is. Perhaps I'll lose the memory of how hard he has to work to move just a few feet across the floor. Or maybe how he just gazes into my eyes when he's tired.

No need to make a long list of what I adore about right now. My point is that I take all of these things for granted, because they just are. They are integral parts of every moment of every day. But before long they will be the invisible foundation of our mtutally-forgotten past. I know this, because it's already happened to me twice now. Memory is slippery.

I don't really keep baby books. My kids get teeth, they walk, they talk....The way I know that all of these things happened is by looking at the boys, at them just being themselves. Sure, I scrapbook, I jot notes on the calendar from time to time... but mostly, the product of these times will be the people my children grow into. The details will not matter.

But sometimes. Sometimes it strikes me how fleeting all of this is.

So I'm going to take a good long look at this photo. The days of the goofy, toothless grin are quickly coming to an end. How much do you think I will remember?