The biggest difference I’ve noticed in myself parenting my first child and my second child is this;
With my first child, the development, the next stage, the next party trick, crawling, walking, talking, it couldn’t happen fast enough. He would do one thing, and I’d be happy for about a week before the urge and the anticipation for him to get to the next step would start again.
With my second, I’m silently shouting, “SLOW DOWN, BABY,” inside my head. She’s 15 months now; about to start walking, nearly close to talking and my heart is breaking. I want to hold onto these moments of babyhood for as long as possible. I want to soak her up, hold her infancy in my soul to replace the regret I feel that I didn’t enjoy my first for the short time that he was a baby.