Did a lot of running around today in preparation for a Taj trip tomorrow. Extra prep was needed, since we'll be celebrating Tank's birthday with family while we're there.
Dude, it was YESTERDAY when he was born. I swear it! I've had migraines that went slower than these past four years. One day, he was a 9-pound wad of fluff, snot and poop and the next, he's 3 feet, 9 inches tall, 52 pounds and ruler of the universe. (In HIS mind, anyway)
Holy crap. How did that happen?
Last night, I went through a box of clothes some friends gave us that their youngest son had outgrown. I'd put them away six months ago, since they were sizes 7 and up...thinking it would be simply FOREVAH before he grew into them.
He's in a SIX now. One of his legs weighs more than the baby we brought home from the hospital.
And going through his outgrown clothes makes me an emotional wreck! I just ache to have Baby Tank back, just for a little bit!
I miss the sweet snuffles of a baby against my neck; the feel of his little round bottom that fit just perfectly in my palm when I cuddled him. I miss the precious baby clothes (from 5T on up, it's skateboards and skulls...no more puppies and airplanes). I look at his baby clothes and I just want to sit and weep over the loss. Stupid, I know, but there you have it.
Would I trade for those days back? No...I am even more in love with the spunky, spirited toddler he's become. Every part of his personality that emerges from the rather generic fog of babyhood is better than the last. Oh, but for one more hour of him napping on my shoulder! Just one sweet, Dreft-and-baby-powder-scented snuggle with his downy little head tickling my cheek.
Oh, it goes so fast!
And it's worth every wonderful, terrifying, worrisome, exhausting, beautiful minute!
Happy Fourth Birthday, Tank!