Oh my goodness — it’s happening. He’s growing up. NOOOOOOOOOOO!! Caleb is starting to talk. Sure, he’s been saying words for months and months. But now he’s forming sentences.
“Mama …more milk.”
Of course I’m excited for him. Elated even. He’s so smart. I know it must be frustrating for his mind to be so far ahead of his body. That’s probably what’s so “terrible” about the twos and threes. Kids just can’t communicate their needs. So, it’s great that’s he’s getting there. But Caleb is my last baby. He’s the end of my baby-making era. And once he becomes a kid… it’s all over. That door closes forever.
So, I don’t mind the poopy diapers and the bottles. Yes, we still give him a bottle at night. What? I don’t mind the mess and the mess and the…. mess. OH THE MESS! Because I know that in 5 years, it becomes something entirely new. It’s also totally special, but it’s just different when they are older.
“Cookie… yum.”
My big little guy. It’s just too sweet and sad. Mostly sweet. Embracing every moment because they are passing through my fingertips.
