*insert anxiety attacks and fits of self-questioning*

So, my little man continues to grow up before my eyes. No longer is he the little baby that just needed food and fresh diapers and cuddles. No, he is now the willful little boy who no longer wants to snuggle but be playing on the floor (or at least not be held). The calm there only lasts so long because he gets frustrated because he's not as mobile as he desperately wants to be. He is so close to crawling but isn't quite there yet. It won't be long but it's certainly too long in his mind. And, after a constipation scare followed by several days of nothing but fruits to get the train running again, he's decided he doesn't want his once beloved peas. So dinner consisted of me shoving it in his mouth during complaining sessions, and preparing for the worst when he'd go through his gagging spells. We just installed a little play-yard with a fence and gate so he'd have his own safe little "Totally Cadence Zone" and he was cool with it for about 2 minutes. Then, hysterics even though he could clearly see and hear me reassuring him. And each time that he is anything but happy and comfortable, I feel compelled to do what he wants (or I think he wants) to be happy. But I also know as a parent that giving into him constantly will make things worse in the future. At the time he was just an infant and just home from the hospital and we were feeding and changing diapers constantly and I felt like a total zombie all the time. I thought this was the hardest thing ever. Oooooooh NO. And I know it will continue to be challenging. Raising my son is such a monumental task for me. I've had a lot of time to think about what it would be like to be responsible for helping to shape a human life, I've wanted children for years. I just want to be the best possible mother to him, he's my angel. I hope the decisions I make for him today will have the best impact on him.