Thursday, January 24, 2013

My Baby Turned Four

 Per the Wood family tradition, Collin opened his birthday presents with breakfast.  He was so excited when he received these Batman pajamas.

 The birthday boy requested his day be spent at the children's museum.  We brought his preschool pal, Hadley, along with us.  The kids had so much fun!
Dinner was capped off with a red velvet birthday cake (thanks to Memaw!).

Tuesday night, I crept into Collin's room.  He was nestled under his blankets, hours into a deep slumber.  I swooped him into my arms and carried him into my bedroom.  I placed him on my bed and tucked him under my covers.  The transition caused nary a ripple in his sleep as he continued to doze.  

I gazed at my little boy.  I soaked in the image realizing I was looking at my little three-year-old for the last time.  Within hours, he would turn four.  FOUR!  There's something about four-year-olds that seem just so much older than threes.  Four-year-olds dress themselves, use utensils, and don't need to be carried.  Four-year-olds are preschoolers, not toddlers, not babies.  A little part of me ached.

I put him into my bed to savor those last few minutes.  The last moments I'd have with a three-year-old.  I knew in the morning, he'd look and act the same, but somehow he'd seem older.

I've had trouble coming to grips with the fact my last baby is turning four.  For weeks, I've told him in jest "I'm not letting you have any more birthdays."

Two days ago, he said to me, "Mom, even if you won't let me have any more birthdays, God will."

It's true.  I can't stop the birthdays and so I'm working on curbing my grief.  

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