My baby boy has turned into a kid.
A rowdy one.
I blame preschool.
E goes to preschool 3 days a week, and there is a kid there who he calls his best friend. This kid's mother and I grew up in church together so we know each other pretty well. Our boys were attending a small Mother's Day Out program together and loving every minute of it. In December, we were informed that the program's funding had been cut and they were shutting it down. Because we wanted our boys to continue preschool together, we made sure to move them to the same new Mother's Day Out program on the same days.
Other than being E's "best fwiend" he has taught my sweet baby boy the following:
*Candy can be shoved in your mouth up to the point that your lips no longer close and rainbow colored spit pours out the sides.
*Anything, and I mean ANYTHING, can be used to "shoot a deer." My sweet little boy now goes around aiming rolls of wrapping paper, remote controls, and dinner forks at the dog hollering, "I'm going to shoot a deer....chi, chi, BAM!"
The phrase "what the hell" is appropriate to say when the dog knocks over one of your trains. Obviously, the appropriate response after the aforementioned derailing of the train, is to pick up said train, aim it at the dog and yell "Chi, Chi, BAM!"
I guess it was too much to hope that he would simply learn to wipe himself and write his name.
I know everything he's experiencing right now is par for the course when you have a little boy. However, he's growing up WAY. TOO. FAST. While I'm excited about each new phase of development, I am finding myself missing the baby in him. He's all into wanting to help me, and he actually PLAYS now instead of just tossing toys about. He has his own little agenda, and when things don't go according to it, he responds with some form of loud protest. Everything about him now is a bit more pronounced than it once was: his love, his dismay, his frustration, his joy, his sense of humor, his sadness, his excitement, his energy, and his precious little spirit.
I miss him being a baby. I miss holding him and smelling his sweet little head. I miss rocking him to sleep at night while singing songs. I miss being able to lay him down on a blanket in the floor and leaving the room only to come back and him be in the same exact spot, smiling at me. I miss cuddling on the couch with him sleeping beside me. I miss my baby.
But I love this kid. I love grabbing him and hugging him tight as I smell the little boy smell from his hair. I love laying in bed with him and reading stories as he stops me mid sentence to count all of the bears in the picture. I love listening to him to sing songs in the car to the radio, only to get shy when he catches me looking at him in the rear view mirror. I love leaving the room with him watching tv and coming back in to an empty room and a little voice in the house hollering, "I bet you can't find me Momma!" I love laying with my son on the couch to watch cartoons while he throws the blanket over his head and says, "get under the tent wif me!"
Even if I never get to be the mommy of another baby, I get to be "Momma" to this precious kid.
Thank you, God, for picking me. Oh Boy.