I was putting away the dirty dishes last night, when it hit me… I am the mother of a two year old toddler, who at this very minute is sleeping in a twin bed all by himself! A wave of emotion ran over me at that moment and I had to swallow hard and fight back the tears, because as much as I would like to deny it, my son is growing up.
It’s not just that he is now sleeping in a twin bed (we pulled his convertible bed out completely Saturday night)… or the fact that, with the exception of a tiny dribble this evening (which he stopped in order to finish in the potty), he’s been dry for over 24 hours – including all of last night! (YAY!!) My baby boy is growing up and there is nothing that I can do to stop it… as much as I may want to… and oh there are so many times that I want to do just that!
Although I may complain about the lack of sleep and bedtime fiasco’s… although potty training may be more of a pain in my butt than his, I want to freeze this age… there are so many things that I don’t want him to stop doing… so many things that I find so stinking cute that I can’t bare the thought that it’s not going to be this way forever. I don’t want him to stop saying “yeh-woh” (yellow) instead of “pee”. I love how he says “paw-ee” and runs to the toilet… how he says milk… making it sound more like “muhlk”. I love how he calls Abby “Be-abby”, a mix between “baby” and “Abby”, and showers her with kisses, thousands of them, all day long… needing to hold her hand to fall asleep both at nap-time and bedtime on the nights when they take over our bed. I love how he calls things by the sound that they make instead of by their name… like he does for chicken and airplane… and how he says “ref” and “een” for red and green. I don’t want to forget these things once he’s stopped saying them the way he does right now, but I’m so afraid that I will.
I don’t want him to lose those cute little, chubby cheeks and the dimples he gets when he smiles… or have him stop furrowing his eyebrows at us, just to make us laugh. I hate to think that one day he will stop coming up to me for a snuggle… just because. I want him to continue to get excited about new things and still jump up and run to the door when he hears the garage door open at 5:30. I don’t want things to change…
I hate to think of him growing up and wanting to call me by my first name, instead of Mami… or worse not talking to me at all. I would hate if he were to treat me as unkindly as others I know have treated their mothers… or worse to stop talking to me altogether. I wish I could say that it will never happen, but there’s no way of knowing that.
I don’t know why this is affecting me so much right now… I know that there is something good to be said about every age. Maybe it’s because I look at him and then I look at Abby and I think to myself… “It wasn’t that long ago that he was as small as she is… doing the things that she is…” and I realize just how quickly time passes. It doesn’t really matter what the reason, right now I just want to hold him tight and keep him just as he is for a little while longer long, long time.