Right now, you’re peacefully asleep in my lap, your small body nestled against me. Your arm is raised high, still clutching your security blanket, which, in this case, happens to be my hair. Whether it’s bedtime at 9 p.m. or an early 5 a.m. wake-up call, you hold onto it as you drift off. I can sense your breathing has slowed, and soon I’ll have to lay you down in your crib, carefully stepping over the almost unnecessary baby gate that guards the hallway. It’s hard to ignore how your toddler frame is becoming a tight fit on my lap, legs stretching long and reaching beyond.
But you’re not growing up.
Just yesterday, I watched you effortlessly climb into your car seat all by yourself after daycare. My only role was to buckle you in, and I know the day is coming when you’ll manage that on your own, too—much to my mixed delight and sadness.
But you’re not growing up.
You’ve also figured out how to pour water from your bottle into your big boy cup with remarkable skill. Sure, there are a few spills here and there, but overall, you’ve mastered it. I often remind you to use both hands, thinking you need my guidance. Yet, I look over and see you confidently holding your cute tiger cup with just one hand, completely steady. It dawns on me that your hands have grown—stronger and more capable than I’m ready to admit.
But you’re not growing up.
Today, you navigated the day without a single potty accident, continuing a streak from the past week. Your precautionary pull-up was dry this morning, a clear sign of your body adapting to big boy toilet training. Your collection of underwear has expanded from three pairs to nearly thirty. Soon, pull-ups will just be a memory, and while I’m thrilled and proud, I can’t help but feel the bittersweet pang of change.
But you’re not growing up.
You came home from daycare with a goody bag filled with snacks, and your excitement over the Starburst candies was contagious. When I asked if you wanted me to open one for you, you ignored me. After a moment of silence, I watched in awe as your tiny fingers unwrapped the candy with ease before throwing the wrapper aside and popping the sweet morsel into your mouth.
But you’re not growing up.
I know this sounds contradictory; I realize I may come off as a mother in denial. Yet, it’s true that I want you to remain my baby forever. I cherish this time in your life—when a picnic with me is the highlight of your day, when you still allow me to kiss your boo-boos, and when you ask me to dance with you (yes, in public!).
I understand that this phase won’t last forever. Each day, your clothes seem to shout the reality of your growth, with T-shirts becoming tighter and pants threatening to turn into high-waters before I manage to replace them with shorts.
But you’re not growing up. You’re growing outward and away.
Out of size 2T clothes and away from baby books. Out of size 9 shoes and away from sippy cups. Thankfully, you’re outgrowing tantrums and moving away from riding in the front of the buggy. You’re growing out and away from me, too. Out of my arms and beyond the safety I provide, out of my lap and away from our cherished bedtime rituals. You’re drifting further from my reach, and I feel the weight of this change.
Despite this, I resist the urge to hold you close all night, knowing I must lay you down to sleep. You need rest, and so do I.
As you slumber, sweet boy, remember this: No matter how big you become, you’ll never outgrow my days or my future. You will always remain in my thoughts, my care, my heart, and my love.
I’ll find peace in knowing that while you grow outward and away, I can still offer guidance from where I stand. I can face the future with a heart full of love, allowing me to sleep soundly tonight.
But you’re not growing up.
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In summary, while it feels like my little boy is growing up fast, I know that the love and bond we share will remain constant, regardless of the changes ahead.