When did it happen? When did my baby become a big boy?
Was it when he started playing pretend? Was it when he started having conversations with his toys? Was it when I had to start feeding the helicopter man toast at breakfast and bunny beat me at a game of Candy Land Castle? Was it last week when he started announcing that he was a big boy to any question (are you hungry? “No, I’m a big boy.” Are you sleepy? “No, I’m a big boy…”).
Was it when he started telling his own jokes? Making up his own songs? Was it when he was able to buckle the top buckle of his car seat and started insisting that he does this now every time. Was it when he figured out how to put on his own coat or decide that he now zips up his own jammies/sweater/pants? Was it when he learned his letters or started using his fingers to show us how many he is?
Or was it farther back? Was it when he started jumping and climbing? Was it when he could swing on the bar above the slide at the park? Was it when he scaled the mini rock wall at the playground on his own? Was it when he started being able to eat with utensils?
Or even farther back? Was it when he started putting together sentences? Was it when he started running or walking? Was it when he could first ask for things clearly, like milk, and requests were granted? Was it when he took his first bites of solid food? Was it when he pulled up on the rails of his crib for the first time? Was it when he first rolled over and therefore started being able to physically move away from me?
Where did my baby go? The one who would just snuggle under my chin and sigh that milky breath, hot against my neck while he slept? The one who cooed and giggled and was easily soothed? The one whose only problems were easily solved with a cuddle, a change, a feeding?
I know he’s still in there. I know he’s only evolving into the little person I always saw behind his eyes.
But last night, as we took the front rail of his crib to create a toddler bed and he eagerly climbed in on his own…
But this morning as he quietly played in his room until he came bounding into ours to tell us he’d slept in his big boy bed…
But this afternoon, when he insisted he get into bed himself, without mommy’s help around the safety rail…
But now, while he sits on the sofa, munching on crackers and watching football on TV with daddy and trying to make me laugh by repeating “Bobby Doerr” over and over, he is most certainly a big boy. A big boy who is sweet, loving, hilarious, physical, rambunctious, sarcastic, smart and gets the most endearing furrowed brow and pursed lips look when he’s concentrating on coloring.
Everyone warned me that time goes by quickly, but big boy status at 29 months (really, 29 months today?)? It caught me off guard.
So excuse me while I dig in my drawers for the toothpicks. Gotta find a way to keep from blinking and missing a single delicious moment of this transition.