Some days I miss mom more than I do other days. I've missed her a LOT since getting pregnant, and even more so now that the Boy is born. I often wish I could call her and talk to her about my concerns, hear about things she did with me when I was this age. Dad tries, but...he has a habit of looking at things through rose colored glasses. Things have changed, too - you don't do things with your kid now that you did 34 years ago. Yes, I survived, as did all of my friends, and thus theoretically it should be the same now. But it's not - there are things that are better now, some that are worse, medical advances have been made, research has been done. I obviously began eating solid foods at some point, but I'm having a hard time getting my son to take it...so things that mom tried to get me to eat solids would be helpful. All dad can say is "we fed you this, and you ate it" type of things.
Oh mom...why did you have to go? Why couldn't you have stayed here with me to help me with this, be a living part of your grandson's life?