the day he grew up

Once upon a time many moons ago, baby Max joined our family. What a happy baby he has always been. I get a little more squeezing time with him because when big brother and big sister were turning two I was in the middle of "new baby town". Adjusting family size, and figuring out feeding schedules, and routines, and immunizations, and cleaning breast pumps, and getting little people to sleep through the night, and just to sleep at all, and diapers, diapers, diapers. It's a wonder we survived. Some days we didn't feel like we would.

But my littlest baby has been growing. He was a early walker and slower talker (like his big brother) and all of a sudden around his 2nd birthday (2 months ago), he was speaking in full sentences. He has books memorized, and songs memorized, and has started to want to sleep with big brother and not in his crib. This morning I got his clothes and he wouldn't let me help him. "Me do it mama". He put on his own socks, and his own shirt, and his own pants (I still zipped and buttoned), and then he jumped up and said "go get shoes!"

We've all been home the last 12 days through the holidays, and today was his first day back and moving down the hall to the 2 year old room. Coming back from a break has always been tough, but after a holiday AND a whole new room? My memory of these moments filled me with dread.

He hugged my neck so tight just like every morning on the way in. A luxury that my other two never had at this time... I was dragging them by the hand, begging them to walk, trying to balance that horrible car seat on my other hip. So I secretly love carrying him still.

We walked into his new room and he was off and running. He never looked back. He ran to his friends, and didn't hear me say "I love you" one more time.

The wave of realization stung as I walked to my car.
All of a sudden knowing this big boy has taken my baby's place.
I saw the signs coming, but I guess I was in denial.
The next phase is here. Ready or not, here it comes.