Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,/Should in despite of light keep us together.

'Tis true, 'tis day ; what though it be?
O, wilt thou therefore rise from me?
Why should we rise because 'tis light?
Did we lie down because 'twas night?
Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,
Should in despite of light keep us together.-John Donne. "Break of Day."  ll. 1-6.

Every morning, I wake up before Christopher and Eliot.  The sun is barely coming up and I get to compare the facial features of my sleeping husband and son in the growing golden morning light.  We are "still" co-sleeping with Eliot.  While I have tried a few times to put him in his crib, he won't have it, and I have not tried too terribly hard to keep him there.  I like him in bed with us.  And I think he does too.

Eliot is the biggest cuddler.  We decided that he isn't a cuddle "bug" or anything simple, but instead a cuddle monster.  He demands the cuddles and I love obliging.  Sometimes people ask when we're going to put him in his crib for good.  They say the longer we wait, the more difficult it will be.  And maybe that's true.  Maybe it's not.  But, last night I found this overwhelming realization that he really is more of a boy than a baby these days.  For some reason when he was falling asleep downstairs, I cradled him like a baby and rocked him.  And it felt ridiculous because he is so grown now.  He is half my height.  However, he still wants to be with us, and I'll take it.  I'll take any chance I can to be close with him.  So, as Eliot was sleeping between Chris and me, and we had stayed up talking about metaphysics, I held Eliot close and kissed his fuzzy head.  Chris touched Eliot's cheeks and told him how beautiful he was.  And it's times like this (and waking this morning to seeing him sleep) that make getting kicked in the night so worth it.

I cannot wrap my mind around the passage of time.  I cannot accept that my boy will be a year old in a month and a half.  I can't believe that I'll be typing up another monthly letter to him in two weeks.  I can't understand that eleven months will be so similar to now.  As you can see, Chris and I keep saying to ourselves, "Remember this time last year?  You were pregnant!"  Come January 14th, our yearly measurements and anniversary reflections will include Eliot being here with us.  I love to see him grow and he keeps becoming more fun, but I wish time could slow down and he'd be my baby a bit longer.  Maybe not forever, but longer.  At least his near-bald head keeps him looking like more of a baby these days.

We took some more photos of Eliot by the tree last night.  I knew we could get a bigger smile out of him.  Check out those teeth!