I remember picking Gabe up from kindergarten once a week and he would fall asleep before we were out of the parking lot- like mouth open, drooling, asleep. And now, his feet are bigger than mine, he makes his own bed daily and cleans his own room and bathroom weekly. He does his own bible study each morning, showers and dresses himself, and fixes his own breakfast. And really, that's a brief list. He's 10- that means we're over half way to the point that we'll be dropping him off at college instead of just the school around the corner.
And all of this happened the same week Jack put on undies for the first time. We are at the very beginning of the potty training process with him. I learned like 57 million things from the last time I did this, so I'm in no hurry, I'm not following any dumb formula, and I refuse to lose my mind over it. But seeing my little man in undies KILLS me! It's so grown up. As I looked through the pictures on my phone this morning, it just rubbed it in... at the beginning of May, Jack was my baby- this is a picture Chad sent me when him and Jack were running errands 2 days after baby Sam was born...
And then here is my little man now.
How can one baby lose all the chub and grow up in less than 3 months? He's like 2 going on 10. And he is DELECTABLE!
And speaking of baby, as if I didn't have enough milestones in the past 48 hours to send me into the fetal position, I started breaking the baby's swaddle, his little cacoon of safety, bit by bit. Saying goodbye to my sweet Paco Taco is rough. It feels like it marks the end of the newborn stage. Please, no! Do you know what that means? Sam's heading right on over to the baby stage and before I know it, he'll be bouncing in his jumparoo. And I did the math the other day- he's been here for 84 days. That's a big number but in my heart, it's only been like 5 minutes and I just can't get enough of him.
It's such a blessing to be in this place, with these healthy and happy boys, all hitting wonderful milestones. I know that it is all a gift from God. But that doesn't mean that I'm happy about the pace. If I could, I'd freeze time and drink all of this in a little longer. So boys, from here, let's do these things one at a time... with about 10 years in-between to give me time to adjust, ok my little men? Mama isn't a tough as she likes to think!