It's official. My babies aren't babies anymore. I learned that this week when Sean opened up a giant space in our kitchen by removing the highchair leaving a huge gaping hole in my BROKEN heart. "Ian likes to sit at the table like a real kid" he said. A kid. My baby no more.
I have two healthy lovely children. A boy. A girl. What more could I ask for? Sometimes I want to ask for a never-ending infant. Maybe another little girl, 5 months old that sleeps through the night, loves to be held, is still immobile and never grows up. This little girl would never get sassy, and never need 'the talk', she would never need her own airplane seat and a college fund would be inappropriate as she'd be my tiny little loving snugly baby...forever. Or he.
I'm very much in a conundrum these days. No, I'm not ready for another baby and most of the time think another baby just might break me but I'm not ready to close the 'doors' just yet. Sean says he's 90% sure he's done which is not the best of odds for my achy breaky heart but we'll just see. He still has not succumbed to my argument that as we are each one of three...so should our own. He's not buying it.
What I'm realizing is no matter how many babies I do have, I will go through this stage of longing. To make that final decision to be done pro-creating, adding to our enormous population and drawing a line in the sand when it comes to expenses is HARD! The prospects of being done writing half my income over to childcare each month, buying Huggies and tripping over sippy cups is enticing yet a highchair being disposed of into the garage has me thinking. There will be many more things to come, bassinets, boxes of clothing, tubs of bottles binks & baby toys that I will one day have to part with. And like choosing to cut off one of my limbs, I won't do it willingly.
I took Ian for his 18 month appointment this week. He's 32 pounds and off the charts in both height & weight. "He's not fat, he's just big all over" his Dr. said. He clung to me like a monkey, his head buried into my neck and I loved it. Not that he was afraid of course, but to feel that he needed me and wanted just me. It was one of those moments that although stressful, I took the time to really breath it in and appreciate it-these experiences will slip away...just like my babies are.
On the way home I had an entire conversation with Alex regarding her *Ahem*...wedding day. Which crazily will also be the day she delivers her first child, a boy, named Mika. "I'm going to dance with Daddy and we will win a huge trophy for the competition", she says. "And I will wear your marry clothes and go to the beauty store for getting ready." Not exactly what I wanted to hear as I was dealing with the emotional loss of my Peg Perego.
So with that, a trip through memory lane. From baby to...not so much.