I've never before had one of those real "My baby is growing up, sniff, sniff" moments. The thing is, while I love my child and child-to-be, I'm not a real "baby" person. Yeah they're cute. Yeah, I like to hold mine close and cuddle them, marveling over their tiny fingers and small little noses. But, I find the stage incredibly needy and quite frankly a bit boring. Infanthood is, afterall, the blob stage of life. You lay there, you cry a bit, you eat, you pass waste, you sleep. And you start the process all over again.
When my son began to react and interact, I started having fun. When he could play and talk and walk, I realized that I absolutely LOVE this toddler age. Sure, its incredibly frustrating sometimes, but being able to really speak to my son and have him respond is so incredibly fulfilling. I find his young sense of humor funnier than anything you'd find in a comedy club. I love his singing. His story telling - all that stuff. And with this, I honestly have not once missed the stage prior. I've not once mourned the loss of my newborn in place of my infant. Or the growth of my infant for my toddler.
But this weekend, it hit me. Even amongst the increasingly common exclamantions of "I DO IT MYSELF!" and "NO MOMMY! I TRY!" I've not once fallen to the "Oh my Lord, my baby is not a baby anymore." But this weekend he moved out of his crib and its sunk it. Maybe its horomones. Maybe its the fact that we've also prepared the room for one who WILL be a needy newborn. Maybe its the fact that he looks so darn big suddenly or that he just took to his new room in such a way that really said - Yup I'm ready for my 'big boy' room. It just sunk in. My baby is not a baby anymore.
We sat in the living room that first night with L in his twin bed (complete with "can't fall out" saftey rails) marveling over how easy it was to get him in there without the turmoil we had expected.
"You know what I just realized. This is the last real 'baby' thing he had left. With him out of the crib, he's now moved past all that stuff," I said to my husband as we watched yet another Law and Order rerun.
"Well, he stil has diapers," he responded like a typical man not quite getting the point.
"Oh, yeah, those," I said and went back to reflecting to quietly.
"Well, that's different," I said after a few moments, trying to get him to see the mushy point.
"How?" he asked, being male again.
"For starters, he's more than capable of knowing when and how to use the potty. He's done it before. He just chooses not to at this point."
"Ok, but he's still in diapers." he responded.
"Ok, but its just different. I mean this was a major move," I protested, now feeling silly for bringing it up.
"Yeah, but so is using the bathroom," said B.
"Oh be quiet." I said with a huff.