Fleeting

My sweet baby. He's almost two, too soon. A little boy. The baby within is almost gone. I catch fleeting glimpses of it during the day, but just barely. It's still there somewhere in his sweet angel face, rosy cherub cheeks and bluest blues with longest lashes. But only a little. It's still there in his frightened cries, but only a little. It's still there in his soft breath and tender grip, but only a little. He wants so much to be independent ("I do it!"), yet still wants Mommy and Daddy nearby. I catch my breath when I observe those fleeting baby moments and expressions in him. I know one day very soon, I'll blink and the baby will be gone forever. My heart feels a little twang, my chest closes in when I think these moments can never be repeated or replaced. His days in the crib are numbered, as are his days with the chupa (pacifier). I've been telling myself to be done with it (he only has it at bedtime) for months now, but the part of me that still wants a part of him to still be a baby is resisting. And it's awfully cute to hear him ask "Pa-poo? Night night?" Potty training is right around the corner. He's growing quickly into a strong, healthy little boy, eager & bright, determined, stubborn, active, social, exuberant, curious. All the things a little boy should be, but this Mommy selfishly longs for more of his baby moments. As though having a few more will allow me to preserve them some way for safe-keeping. Oh how it stings to know such a wish is impossible. 

[photo by Kelly]