My “baby” is now 4.
Do you know how long it took for me to be able to say that? Shoot, the day before his birthday I was telling everyone he was 3. Not “about to turn 4,” but “3.” Period. And for the couple months since his birthday I’ve been saying he “just turned 4.”
But now I’m taking a deep breath and saying (perhaps more to myself than anyone else) that my baby is indeed 4.
How did my son go from this…
It is official. The kids are growing up.
As much as I enjoy this, I do find myself daydreaming about how much I loved kissing their chubby cheeks, the feeling of having them fall asleep on me, the joy of watching them take their first steps. At the time, I thought babies were boring (and I still do) but I feel them becoming even more independent and it makes me wish I just had one day where I could transport them back to babyhood, just for a sec.
To be completely honest, motherhood feels like it’s getting easier yet much more complicated all at the same time. It’s no longer about getting them to sleep through the night or the raw nipples from breastfeeding. It’s about field trips and learning to read and getting their first best friends.
I feel more like ME now, now that I’ve gotten through those first few years of motherhood, where every day is an exercise in survival. Main goal? KEEP THAT BABY ALIVE.
Now I’ve successfully completed level 1 and it’s time for level 2. Where the kids are completely potty-trained, can grab their own snacks out of the kitchen, and sleep through the night, but they still come to Mommy to kiss a boo-boo.
I wish I could go back in time to New Mommy Me, and show her a glimpse of what life would be like just five years down the road. Then again, she probably wouldn’t believe it. I know I still have trouble glancing at my kids’ sweet faces and realizing that yes, they are mine. I’m so blessed.