Growing Up

My little man is growing up. B is two and a half now and every day there is less and less of that tiny little baby I brought home from the hospital in him. For better or for worse, he is a little boy now. A little boy that cannot wait to grow up and become a Big Boy. His warm little hand gently but absentmindedly strokes my face as he plops down in the couch next to me. His attention is all on the movie in front of him. I watch him without him noticing, his face animated, totally enraptured with what is happening on the screen. I sit there quietly next to him,  trying to drink in every moment because I now soon, very soon, I am not going to be the center of his universe anymore. Soon he won't be running to me to have his boo boos kissed better. Soon he won't ask me to "watch this, mamma" as he contorts his body into weird shapes or hangs like a monkey from the bed boards of his bunk bed. Soon he will roll his eyes at me and wipe my kisses away. I know what is ahead having watch my friends go through it. But I'm not ready. Of course one day he will grow up. He will whether I like it or not. I want him to grow up to an independent, caring, sweet man. But not yet. Not quite yet. 

He plants a wet sloppy baby kiss on my cheek and takes my face in his head. "you watch too mommy, funny movie" he says. I smile because I still have time. I'm still included. We snuggle close and I sneak a kiss on his warm chubby little cheek. "You so silly, Momma" he says. I am silly, I think to myself. Why do I spend time worrying about the what ifs and the maybes? I have today, right now, and right now the world is pretty good. I love and I am loved. What more can you ask for?