We’re still right at three months shy of Little Man’s third birthday. Most days I find it completely impossible to believe that he’s gone from this:
I think the reality that he was growing up hit me the other day on the way home from Walmart. We’d made a random trip, just to get out of the house and have something to do and were driving down the road listening to Jason Aldean.
There was nothing out of the ordinary about the moment. Nothing special about the day. Just an ordinary drive home. Little Man was being quiet in the back seat, so I assumed he had dozed off a bit. When I turned around, I saw that he wasn’t sleeping at all. He was just sitting there, looking out the window thoughtfully. He had his right leg crossed over his left knee and he looked like he had a million things on his mind.
When he noticed I was looking at him, he smiled sweetly and said simply, “Hey Mommy! What you doing?”
When did he start communicating so…maturely?
When did he start piecing together his thoughts and words and sentences so perfectly?
I know I didn’t miss it, because he just started talking, what…yesterday?
The fact of the matter is, he’s not a baby anymore. I mean, he’ll always be my baby, but he’s not an infant. He’s not a tiny little baby that can’t communicate his feelings or emotions. He’s barely a toddler anymore.
My sweet little baby is growing up. He’s turning into a full fledge little boy.
A dirty, sweaty, stinky little boy who picks boogers, wipes his hands on the couch, and drops his food on the floor and calls the dog over to clean it up. He hides snacks in his room, he sleeps with just a shirt on, and hates to wear socks. He picks out his shirts and his shoes; he helps get himself dressed. He tells me when he needs to potty. And he’s getting ready to start Pre School in October.
It’s safe to say that I’ve entered the realm of being a boy mom.
I hope I’m ready for this.
*Linking this post up today with Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop.