Not a Baby...

My little boy is growing up. He is definitely not a baby anymore. Just in the past couple of months, he's taken on more of a "little boy" appearance, dropping some of his baby fat (his cheeks are still magnificent, just slightly less in volume than they once were), stretching, maturing. He does everything at a run now. He seems to pick up a new word or phrase every day. And he definitely has a mind of his own. He knows what he wants, when and how. And he isn't shy about letting me know. There has been a great deal of "No, Mama!" or "No, Mommy!" recently (he's made the transition from Mama to Mommy in the past week or so).

I have a niece who will start second grade in a couple of weeks. I know how quickly B will be there. It happens in a blink. So, I'm trying to take in as much of this time as I can. I'm trying to be fully present in every moment I spend with him. I'm trying to remember all the hilarious and adorable things he says, so I can pull the memories out later on, when I need them. I always want to remember the way he says, "Mommy choo choo!" when I get on the train in the morning, or when he says "Ah lahluu," (I love you) on the phone. I want to remember the times when I'm tickling him and stop and he says, "Mo! Mo!" (More, more). I even want to remember when he says, "No, Mommy, do!" (Go), and gestures away from himself.

Even though we haven't had the easiest transition to toddlerhood (I guess we were spoiled by having such an easy going baby), I know I'll want to do this again at some point. Coming home at the end of the day is all the more satisfying when I get to come home to his smiling face, and when I get to hear his often not quite English yet stories about his day.