I’m going to shock you with my opening statement: ten months is THE most fun age ever.

(New readers, welcome. I have said some version of that sentence every month!)

It’s suddenly like hanging out with a real, live person all day—a hilarious, top-heavy little person who’s started to give intentional hugs and say our names. Peak cuteness, as a friend described it recently.

But peak cuteness ain’t free, and the price we pay for this adorable age is managing an increasingly strong, opinionated little guy who can’t be left alone for a second.

I know, this is all babies! But for this first time mom, it’s been an adjustment. I sort of… forgot? that we’d have new challenges to work through together once we got the whole eating and sleeping newborn gig down. So this is why they say you’ll never pee be alone again.

All of this is to say that it’s a lot of work. (And all of the experienced moms in the world collectively said, “duh.”)

It’s tempting to avoid the extra work of getting out the door and just hang here in the safety and comfort of our little baby-proofed bubble. But it’s summer in Chicago, a time so magical we residents brave 8 other months of mostly crappy weather for these 100 days of glory. Every single time I make the effort to brave the tornado of clothes/shoes/sunscreen and get out the door to do something fun, it’s worth it.

I can practically see him processing new things right now and taking in every new experience—and if there were any doubt, his shockingly high-pitched shrieks of baby glee confirm that he’s loving life.

So to remind myself to seek out these experiences, I’m calling this our summer of yes! Basically, it’s a far less international and glamorous Eat Pray Love experiment for a part time stay at home mom and a 25 pound semi-mobile baby. Whenever a fun opportunity comes our way, we’re going for it. Free folk music for babies? We’re battling the crowds and shaking that tambourine. Mom and baby yoga? Namaste. The pool? We’re jumping in, every day that we can.

And hey, it doesn’t even have to be that ambitious. I found a pile of clean dirt in a planter near the riverwalk the other evening and let him play with it—never have I seen a more joyful boy or dirtier fingernails.

Although I know he won’t really remember what we do this summer, I hope that my efforts to make it special set us all up for a lifetime of fun summers and choosing to experience as much as we can, even if I’m sweating to death and have a puff stuck to my butt. Summers in Chicago are fleeting, as is this age where he seems to find everything a bit magical. So, here’s to saying yes as much as possible over the next few months. May this summer be one for the books 😃