It occurred to me somewhere between Judah picking me my first Dandelion bouquet and finding him sitting in his bed "reading" Freight Trains to himself, that I no longer have a baby. When did this happen? I'm not trying to be treacly and sentimental here, I'm seriously asking- when!?
Any mother of a certain age will tell you, "It goes so quickly." I thought that was an old wives tale, used to soothe sleep-deprived, strung-out parents of infants. It's not. It's completely true.
There are parts of babydom I miss terribly.
I miss having an immobile child. Sounds terrible I know, but having just a static bundle to hold and cuddle has its perks....as I came to realize while chasing Judah across a parking lot this evening.
I miss the first crooked smiles that take every ounce of baby's concentration. Judah spends a lot of his time smiling now...often while laughing maniacally at us. We are inexplicably hilarious to him - particularly when speaking sternly.
I miss his tiny, wrinkly fingers and toes. His hands can span more than half an octave on the piano now and I'm pretty sure we'll be able to share pants by September.
I miss the time when he couldn't say no. For example, I'd say "Judah, do you want to put your shoes on?" And he would have no choice but to acquiesce...at least verbally. Now he uses no like punctuation - logical or otherwise.
Me: "The laundry can come out of the dryer now Luke."
Judah: "No. No. No. No."
Me: "Judah, time to eat your supper."
Judah *climbing into high chair and offering plate*: "No. No. No."
Me: "Judah do you see the cat?"
Judah *patting the cat*: "No. No. No. No."
I miss when I could put whatever clothes I liked on him and he would obliviously wear them all day. Sometime, during the past month or so, the spirit of Red-Green overcame him in the night. Now, every morning he chooses a plaid shirt of some colour or other and, if available, his plaid overalls and presents them to you beaming. You either agree to the plaid on plaid palette or become very creative at talking up the amazing fun-ness of a plain t-shirt and jeans. Suffice to say, he wears plaid...a lot.
Although he is definitely not a baby and absolutely a toddler now, there are so many aspects of this age that I'm drinking up. I love his theatrics; his fake laugh, his fake cry (still needs to work on making that one convincing), his spontaneous overwhelming urges to find you just to give you a kiss, his love of books and play dough and painting, his amazing appetite, his growing vocabulary, his dare-devil antics on the slide and the bed and the tub and the sidewalk and the stairs... his sense of humour (gas is hilarious), his independence, his beautiful, open outlook on the world. I hear him say "wow!" dozens of times a day. It makes me stop and look at him and think the same thing,
Wow. You are an amazing human being. I can't believe you are mine.