On Growing Up.

I am supposed to be at church right now. But instead I am here. Playing hookie. At my computer. Not working on cards, just being here & it feels good. I am puttering around my house in the quiet with no one making demands. Being lazy & enjoying the Christmas music & candles.

Tidying up as I putter found me in Scoobs room & suddenly it dawned on me that he is a little boy now. Not one ounce of baby in him...okay he still sleeps with his rag tag dog at night {which I love...look for it on your Christmas card from me...it's in there} but there is no other trace of baby in that room. It is all boy now & it leaves me wondering how I have a boy & not a baby?

My proof you ask? Things like his 'stash box' which is where he hides all his 'special' things from his sister. You'll see plenty of sillybandz, a suction ball he picked from the treasure box at preschool, a Shrek watch he got in a happy meal {and has worn to sleep many a nights} & a beaded necklace he got from the fishing pond at a Halloween party. Special indeed.

It broke my heart a little...seeing it all laid out in front of me.

I moved from thinking about tidying that 'stash box' {decided to leave well enough alone} to his bed. I figured I'd at least make that for the day when I was faced with this:
the Phoenix Suns blanket. He has been sleeping with this blanket in addition to what he has because he gets cold at night. Call me crazy but it might be the fact that he insists on sleeping in basketball shorts with no socks & a t-shirt {which I sorta love too}. So the blanket. It kind of drives me crazy. It doesn't match. It doesn't get folded & it always looks a mess. But this blanket? It was mine. I got it for Christmas in about 5th grade...when I was about 10 years old. And I loved it. So much so I wrote my name on the tag...

that and my best friend had one too & we didn't want them to get mixed up. It makes me laugh thinking of all the sleepovers this blanket accompanied me on, vacations & jumps on the trampoline at night. I used to spread it over my own bed {the cute comforter underneath} in a shrine to Kevin Johnson, Charles Barkley & Dan Majerle, whose posters framed my bed. And now. Now it is spread on his bed, driving me bonkers & I can't believe he is closer in age to that girl that opened this blanket on Christmas morning than I am.

On Walking.

The Lady is a full-fledged walker. And while I do not hide the fact that I was looking forward to this day with anticipated glee, I have to say it finds me a bit mournful.

All of a sudden {well we all know not really} she is growed up! And yes, I know growed isn't grammatically correct, but whatevs.

She no longer wants to be held 14 hours a day {which my neck & back thank her for}, nor do I need to be within reach or even eyesight for that matter.

She is off.

And for whatever reason, having her walking signifies to me that we survived her babyhood, which again, I was okay with pushing the fast forward on that, but now I want to go back & survive it all again. And, trust me, I haven't forgotten yet how tiring, emotionally draining & difficult it all was...instead I remember how uncomfortable she was & want to go back & fix it quicker & love her through it all over again.

And isn't that always the case? Hindsight is always 20/20. I wish I would have gotten her to the doctor sooner. Changed her to formula sooner. And not just waited for things to 'work themselves out.'

I am sure there will be more 'things' to love her through, but she has gained some serious independence. Even in the pool, she will not be confined to a tube or let you hold her hand. Instead she bops along & falls under the water 637 times in 2 hours, which confines me to always being with 6 inches of her. I think it is safe to say we have 2 dare devils on our hands...full of confidence & dose of strong will.

She is an absolute doll walking.

Really. She is so miniature & just bopping along.

To.die.for.

Please stop growing now. You are too fun. too cute. too independent. and I am enjoying you way too much right now.