I look over at my barely awake, but smiling, son and I wonder - when did you grow so?
Just yesterday you were my young nursling, just yesterday you got your first tooth, just yesterday you said your first word, took your first steps, just yesterday you were a part of me, just yesterday you were my baby.
Today I look over and I see a child. You talk in sentences, you ask questions, you have "ideas" and state them proudly - like your idea to make a bridge from the couch to the coffee table to run your cars across - you have likes and dislikes and also state those proudly. You cry when the kids on TV get frightened when the ghost chases them - not because you're scared, but because you feel badly for them and can't do anything to help. You are always ready to offer a crying a kid a big hug, though sometimes those hugs make things a little worse and often you were the reason they were crying in the first place. You asserted the other day that you "love sharing!" And that is so sweet (if not always quite true). You LOVE peanut butter and hate anything green. You can "read" The Very Hungry Caterpillar the whole way through. You are observant and love to narrate your days - and though I may sometimes wish you would just stop talking for a moment, I love the wonder you find in the world and the pride you take in your ever-expanding vocabulary. I love that you say "please" and "thank-you" and always ask for a napkin.
When did this happen?
Yesterday I bought you a little backpack* and the moment you put it on I saw you as the preschooler you are. You'll always be my "baby" but you will never again be my petit bebe.
*I broke my own "No Licensed Products" rule, but you do *love* Thomas the Tank so very much and it could be worse, it could have been that hideous Cars bag.