Sunday, December 4, 2011

It's the little things I'll miss...

My little buddy Caleb turned three this past Friday. Something about that rings of sadness for me. Not a baby anymore. Not gonna need me so much soon.

I know, I should be jumping and shouting, I mean, the boy didn't even sleep thru the night consistently until he was 2 1/2, so I should be utterly thrilled he does that now. And he's fully and completely potty trained, which is just awesome. I'm tickled to get rid of his diaper pails, his extra wipes containers, etc. And he's riding a "big boy bike" he got for his birthday... so no more stashes of tricycles hogging space in the garage. I could go on for the benefits,...


I also have to sell my glider rocker. The one I so lovingly (and at times grudgingly with tears of sleep deprivation) rocked my downy-haired boy on night after night during feedings. We just don't need it anymore. But there in that chair, I conjure remembrances of his sweet baby aroma, his adorable coos, and his wiggly games as he attempted to escape my lap during bedtime stories.

Already long gone are his crib, his onesies, his baby spoon/fork sets... and on the chopping block now are added his strollers, smaller carseats, and various baby toys. His board books went to a friend this week. Sigh.

As a trade, I now have this wonderfully independant, immensly charming little stinker. He's just an awesome kid, and not a day goes by that Ryan and I don't share a glance across the room at each other and find each other beaming when we've seen him doing something hilarious, something new, or something brilliantly mischevious. He's crossing into worlds of imagination that I relish joining him in to get away from the adult world. Worlds where superhero's reign supreme and all dragons are either vanquished, or squashed to their end by an even more Terrible Caleb-Monster, depending on which part in his mind-stories he has chosen to play in that day. Race cars bring adventure, and fires beg to be quenched with sisters to be rescued.

And he's trying so hard to care like his sisters about learning new things in school, though his interest still lasts a mere 5 minutes. He'll joyfully declare "I know all my (colors, numbers, etc.) now!" after getting just one right, only to go woefully wrong with the next question, with sisters and Mommy snickering nearbye but still cheering him on all the more for the next attempt. He's shy like his sisters were at this age at first with new folks... but then after about 5 minutes around people, he'll open up with some of the most charming, hilarious conversation topics- the boy can really work a room with is humor and sparkling eyes.

His boundless energy is unbelievable. The boy never actually requires a nap, though he gets one each day so I can keep up with him... it's Mommy who needs the break, not him, and we both know it. And, like the lovely three-nager his sisters were, he's boldly and unashamedly trying defiance on for size, now shouting "NO! I. Don't. Want. To. and I'm. NOT. Gonna!" when told to do things with an adorable but maddening little foot stomp accompanying each syllable. He always backs down still, but it's funny because he always puts up a good fight first.

Maybe not so much for "Daddy-big-spanking-hands", but he at least works a good fight for "Mommy-butterfly-kisses-style-pitiful-spankings". ;)

He's such a little GUY, too, which brings so many humorous smiles to my life. He's delighted that he can now pee standing up like a man, relishes any-and-all guy role models (superheros, especially Spiderman, are the awesomest, to him), farts with joyous glee, and rapturously tortures his sisters to no end.

And much to Ryan's chagrin, he's definitely left-handed like his Mommy (tee hee).

I can't wait to see what my little guy will be like in the years to come, but it's just so tough to say goodbye to baby stages.

Until I remember the sleep deprivation.


Now could you please do it past 7 am? Just once in a while?


  1. I'm glad you are writing a blog! You are a gifted writer.

    I remember realizing as my last baby turned 3 that the bulk of my work was done. I'd taught him everything essential; the rest was just helping him fit into "the world". At the end of the early years, it hit me that what I had done was indeed sacred in the best sense. The most important work in the world is loving a little one and helping them become independent.

    Now all my little ones are teens and older. It's interesting to watch us all change together. That hasn't changed! Lots of love from your cousin.

  2. PS He sounds a lot like Ryan!!


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