Not a Baby Any More

Today William padded over to me while I was making brownies.  He lifted his chubby arms beseechingly to me, "Mommy! Mommy! Up!"  A few days ago I caught him coloring on the floor with a green marker.  I looked at him, he looked at me, and then he put the cap on the marker, got up, and handed it to me while looking fairly abashed.  When we fold our arms to pray before dinner, he looks around at all those pairs of arms quietly folded and quickly folds his own.
My baby isn't a baby any more.
I've found that I don't see my children grow up gradually.  I see them as a baby or a toddler or a little child or a big child or a young women for years.  And then one day, my perspective shifts and they've moved on to the next stage.  I stop seeing them, treating, and expecting them to act as a baby and everything changes at once to toddler.  Yesterday they couldn't be expected to talk and today they are. 

William has been our baby for the last year and a half, but now we don't have a baby anymore.  He can feed himself (not with silverware and not soup), he gets up and down stairs without any hesitation, he lets himself out to play in the yard, he often does what I ask him to, he tries to repeat whatever I tell him, and he makes faces that he finds to be very, very funny.

I've found after having a few children that my favorite child stage is eighteen months to three years, and William has only reinforced that preference.  He is mostly cognizant of what is going on and is starting to communicate, but he hasn't become willful yet.  I love the stupid, unknowing, innocent gaze of a toddler and their wholeheartedly delighted smile and laugh when you please them.  I love how snuggling into my shoulder with a blanket makes everything in the world right again, and they are endlessly delighted by reading Where the Wild Things Are every single night.

Having a child who is right on the edge of bursting into full young womanhood helps me appreciate my sweet little toddler even more.  I know that soon enough he will be straining to grow up and become part of the adult world and for now I am happy to delight him with a second brownie followed by a tickle at bedtime.  And also, that oldest daughter can help with the dishes while I'm singing a second song to William before putting him to bed.

I used to be so anxious for my babies to grow up because I needed them to become something other than another burden in my already-full load.  But now the load has been shared around and I can enjoy savoring the sweet innocence of toddlerhood.  Soon enough it will only be a memory, so I'll hold on tight as long as I can.