At 21 months old, my little boy is certainly not a baby anymore.
He can run and spin and climb just about anything. He’s a got a vocabulary that grows exponentially by the day. He brushes his teeth, and drinks from a real cup, and eats with a fork.
At the park, he sometimes walks off and never looks back, and I feel sure that if I didn’t chase him down, he’d just keep on walking as far as his little legs would take him.
But at bedtime, I sing him “Jesus Loves Me”, and his little head still rests perfectly right on my chest.
And later, when he wakes up crying from a bad dream or a toothache or one of his bears falling out of the crib, he still finds comfort in my hand on his tummy.
I know he won’t always be my baby, but I’ll treat him like he is just as long as he’ll let me.
I enjoyed this post. My youngest son ( 14 ) still likes his goodnight hug & kiss on the cheek. Here’s hoping our sons always have time for a mother hug! May they marry ladies who respect and adore them… ~ Wendy
Awww…this is my exactly my head lately. They grow up so quickly…
So sweet 🙂
beautifully written