My First Baby

My first baby is fast becoming a big boy, his third birthday is this coming Saturday. As exciting as it is to see him grow and learn and start to become his own person, as his momie, I have to admit that it hurts my heart just a little bit too. He's still little, but he is definitely no longer a baby. With each birthday that passes, I feel a little bit wistful, even though I am so proud of the boy he has become, and the boisterous way with which he lives each day to the fullest.

I was already feeling weepy and sentimental when I stumbled upon this poem by an unknown author, and now I am a total wreck:

"My Son"

Hold him a little longer,
Rock him a little more.
Tell him another story
(You've only told him four).
Let him sleep on your shoulder,
Rejoice in his happy smile.
He is only two and a half
For such a little while.

 Author: Unknown

The last three years went by in the blink of an eye. We learned so much together, I learned how to be a mother, and he learned so much more. I got to watch him smile, laugh, roll over, crawl and walk, over just a few months. Now he's a big boy, a big brother, who talks non stop, builds things, plays with his trains and train tracks, plays ball, and sings all the time. He's my grocery helper and laundry helper; my mess maker and my noise creator. The other day while waiting in the check out line at the grocery store, he told me, "I'll be right back mumum, I'm just gonna go get some wine for you". He makes me and everyone around him laugh every day! He also infuriates me every day, but I think that might just be because we are family. 
I will let myself cry a little bit this afternoon for my baby that is a baby no more, hold him a little longer, and relish the fact that he still fits nicely in my lap as I read him his favourite books. Three is fast approaching.