Psychotically Sane

I’m trying to figure out when I told Skyler he could grow up. Who really wants their baby, their small toddler… to grow out of that phase. And how long does it take us to realize that our baby is no longer a baby.

It hit me today. Hit me hard that my baby is no longer a baby. Hell, he’s no longer a small toddler anymore. He’s holding conversation, recognizing true human emotion, pushing his independence and has caught on to the fact that he is wrapped around my little finger.

How else would he know that when he wants to go to the movie store, all he has to do is look at me with his big blue eyes and ask ever so politely “Can we go to the movie store? Pretty please with a cherry on top???” with his little hands put together in a begging sort of manner. And when I tell him before bed that I am going downstairs to get him some water, all he has to do is ask even more politely “I go down-a-stairs with you? Can I?”.

Holy crap, the cuteness is overwhelming!

Then there are the times that he knows he did something wrong and he looks at me with those irresistible blue eyes and tells me in the sweetest voice imaginable “I’m sorry mommy” and follows it with a hug. He’s learning to follow directions and do as I ask, even if he doesn’t want to.

He’s not perfect. He throws an insane amount of temper tantrums. He knows how to push my buttons. He knows how easy it is to set me off and for some odd reason he enjoys this. He has quite the temper and attitude himself, but then I remember that he’s a toddler. Not a small toddler, but a bigger toddler, not quite a child. A toddler who instinctively knows that he has to test his limits to learn.

Pretty soon he’s going to be a child, and after that he certainly won’t be my baby anymore.

That thought certainly has me in tears….

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