In The Last Days Left
In give or take 30 days my little boy won’t be my littlest boy anymore. He’ll be big. Big brother. “Please show me how you can walk by yourself like a big boy”. The player of big boy games and with big boy toys. The eater of big boy food.
He’ll have a clear and new differentiator because suddenly there will be another child in this house to differentiate with.
With or without baby coming, C already is a big boy. He runs and plays make believe and tells jokes and knows the best part of helping in the kitchen is stealing chocolate chips out of the cookie dough or shredded cheese from the bag.
He knows baby is coming. In mama’s big tummy, he’ll say. We’ll see him in the hospital, he’ll say. He’s coming later, he’ll say.
He knows all he can know about the way life is going to flip us all around and knock us upside down. Heck, to be honest, I think he comprehends a new baby is coming soon better than I do.
With give or take 30 days to go, I’m not mourning the last moments with my littlest boy. I’m rejoicing in them.
When he changes his mind from milk to water to milk to water to juice which we don’t have to water to milk when I ask him what he wants with his breakfast in the morning, I just smile because look at this boy with these opinions and this level of understanding and how marvelous he is.
When he wants one more book at bedtime, or yells “mama! Come play with you!” from the playroom when he’s looking for some bonding time, I smile and savor it. Look at what this big boy has to offer and to teach baby, just by being himself. And imagine all the beautiful things baby’s presence will bring to C.
In the last few days with this boy being my only boy, I’m trying to move slow and savor it--while simultaneously knowing everything brilliant and bright about him that we could hardly have imagined before he got here is coming again for our family in a multitude of ways.
And man, how lucky are we all going to be to have each other?
He’ll have a clear and new differentiator because suddenly there will be another child in this house to differentiate with.
With or without baby coming, C already is a big boy. He runs and plays make believe and tells jokes and knows the best part of helping in the kitchen is stealing chocolate chips out of the cookie dough or shredded cheese from the bag.
He knows baby is coming. In mama’s big tummy, he’ll say. We’ll see him in the hospital, he’ll say. He’s coming later, he’ll say.
He knows all he can know about the way life is going to flip us all around and knock us upside down. Heck, to be honest, I think he comprehends a new baby is coming soon better than I do.
With give or take 30 days to go, I’m not mourning the last moments with my littlest boy. I’m rejoicing in them.
When he changes his mind from milk to water to milk to water to juice which we don’t have to water to milk when I ask him what he wants with his breakfast in the morning, I just smile because look at this boy with these opinions and this level of understanding and how marvelous he is.
When he wants one more book at bedtime, or yells “mama! Come play with you!” from the playroom when he’s looking for some bonding time, I smile and savor it. Look at what this big boy has to offer and to teach baby, just by being himself. And imagine all the beautiful things baby’s presence will bring to C.
In the last few days with this boy being my only boy, I’m trying to move slow and savor it--while simultaneously knowing everything brilliant and bright about him that we could hardly have imagined before he got here is coming again for our family in a multitude of ways.
And man, how lucky are we all going to be to have each other?