Growing, Growing, Gone...

Today, as I contemplate my life over a sweet cup of coffee, I am dumbfounded by the fact that my son is no longer a baby but officially a little boy. We can have conversations, he understands practically everything I say to him, he walks and plays and says "I wub you mama". The tantrums that once consumed my life with dread and trepidation have diminished to mere emotional meltdowns once in a while (believe me though, they still fill me with fear and trepidation). The boy that once used to whack his sister or poke her in the eye to see what would happen has evolved to one who merely tries to sit on her or hug her so she can't move laughing the whole while (all right, not much of a step up, I'll admit, but hey, its something!). He smiles for the camera, eats his food even when he doesn't want to (with a little bit of gentle persuasion of course...) and jumps like a bunny rabbit all over the house. He drives his toy truck, builds puzzles with perfect ease (even managing to turn the shapes around so they fit), and tries to sing songs (with a pretty good hit on the key I must say, my little budding musician!!!!). And as I sit here, gushing over my big boy as only a mother can do, I feel an overwhelming urge to cry over the baby that is no more.

It is the paradox of motherhood, the drive to teach them how to be independant, and the superhuman need to pull them back and cherish and nuture them for the rest of their lives (give me a 22 year old throwing his dirty underwear on the floor for "mommy" to pick up, and I may be singing another tune!). And all of a sudden, I want to gather him up and hold him in my arms and tell him, "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be" sniff sniff, gushing mother indeed. :) Needless to say, my boy is growing up. And this just happened to be the time and the day for me to pour out my mothers heart for the baby that is no more. All I can say is...

Bring on the screams!