In my post of 2012, I mentioned the feelings of sentimentality mixed with looking forward to and enjoying what each new age has to offer. That could mean simultaneously being delighted to be done with diapers (for one kid, anyway) but also not being able to be in the room when we sell the Jolly Jumper. *sniff*
Big Bro was an adorable baby, an old soul if there is such a thing (mostly because he seemed to be so over that whole baby talk and silly songs thing right from the start). I'm seeing more facets of his personality as he gets older, and he's more delightful all the time. He's funny, patient, creative, thoughtful and silly, still with a bit of that contemplative 'old man' quality at times. He's endlessly curious in a contagious way, my kid who likes GeoPuzzles and cheese equally.
Now that he's out of toddlerhood, I must say it's nice that we can go out for hot chocolate together without my worrying that he'll a) pitch it on the floor (at least on purpose) or b) freak out to "get down" after two minutes.
In fact, we can now have some great chats at the table. He can now entertain us with his
So while I am enjoying each new phase in life with my sons, there are admittedly moments where I feel a little sappy about the whole thing. Like when I look at the little Sorels on the boot mat and envision the enormous boots that'll be there one day (you know, that day when they'll be going through loaves of bread in one sitting).
One recent bedtime, while cuddling with my firstborn and reflecting on his upcoming birthday, I had a wave of such sentimentality wash over me. I felt like reminding him just how important he was to me.
OK, I mean, I wasn't expecting something profound; just maybe an acknowledgement remotely related to what I said.
Well. Anyway. I'm sure he knows.