Holding out his hand cupped around an imaginary mess of creepy crawlies, my baby said
“Mama duck do you want some BIG, HUGE, FAT bugs to eat? I’ve got some here.”
Looking up, I really SAW him. I looked into his face and saw how much it had thinned out. I listened to his words, and realized that he’s managing complicated sentences in two languages. I noticed his creativity when he steps out from the shadow of his older brother, and comes up with games all by himself. I saw his focus as he “does school” or tweezes pompoms or pours his own juice.
He still lets me bury my nose in the deliciously sweaty curve of his neck. He still calls for me in the night saying “mommy I want you.” If I go to him, he’ll wrap himself up in me, and tangle his fingers around my arms, pulling me tight.
As quickly as he’s losing his baby fat, he’s also losing his babyNESS. It’s bittersweet, I love his baby self, but I’m oh so proud of his big boy self. So, I stop and SEE, trying
in my mind.