Even before I started looking I knew the evidence was all around our house.
My first clue was the lone baby sock I discovered in the bottom of a suitcase. He hasn’t been able to wear it in three years.
The tiny, white, soft sock, still smelled of Dreft made me nostalgic, yes but also had me searching for more proof…
Upon further investigation, I realized he’s gone from big wooden chunky puzzle pieces with handles to masterfully assembling the 30+ piece sets.
He’s physically heavier, weighting nearly 34 pounds. I never hesitate to carry him when he asks.
No longer in diapers (except at bedtime), he is learning how his body functions and all about feelings.
Instead of moving his cars across the floor, he creates scenarios and they have conversations with one another.
He loves to play Candy Land, Go Fish, Hide & Seek and Red Light, Green Light and I swear uses real strategy to assure a victory.
The pile of 2T and even some 3T clothing builds as we hand down the things he’s outgrown to our friends children.
He has opinions, knows how to make me laugh, recites the Pledge of Allegiance and can sing along to every word of Call Me Maybe.
More often than not, he opts to walk over being pushed in the stroller.
But the real proof that our house no longer has a baby is in his face. It’s more defined instead of soft and round.
He’s gone from a baby to a little boy in the blink of an eye and it is wonderful to witness.
It’s also enough to make me want to sit in a corner with a tub of ice cream and gallon of wine and cry. Maybe I should reach out to my RE and start up on the baby #2 trail again?
Better yet, I’m going enjoy what I have right this very minute.
Funny how much power a lone sock can have.
