Yesterday, my son took his first “real” steps. It started as three. Then five. Then six. Then he went all the way across the room before falling flat on his behind. Today, he’s still walking. Not as brave as yesterday, but more careful. His little face watching where he’s putting his feet. He’s trying to perfect his landings.
And I realize that this is a normal part of growing up, and a normal part of raising a child, but I also don’t want to see it happen. It’s that part of me that watches him grow up and says, “It’s happening too fast!” He’ll be running soon. I already have a hard time keeping up with him, and due to my back, I have a hard time wrangling him just for diaper changes. So, I just pop 3-4 Ibuprofen and keep truckin.
I’m proud of every step he takes. He’s even figured out how spoons work, and as of this morning he has successfully fed himself with one for part of his breakfast and lunch. He’ll be too big for me to wrangle soon. He’ll be running around with the family dog, chasing birds and having fun. Starting school and then… Well, I can’t help but be afraid of my little boy growing up.
Screw the state of the world. I just don’t want to deal with a moody teenager, nagging him about his homework and how much time he spends playing his video games. Having to sit down and deal with the first time he ever gets his heart broken. And while I will be insanely proud and overjoyed and cheer him on through everything he sets his mind to, I also don’t want to let go of the teeny-tiny 6.6lb preemie baby I brought home last year. I don’t want to trade Spongebob for sports teams. I don’t want to pack away the rubber ducks and the Whinnie The Pooh musical rocking horse.
Oh well, it’s part of growing up, growing old, and raising children. At least I’ll have plenty of funny baby stories and fond memories with which I can embarrass him later in life at family reunions or various social functions.
As my son takes his first real steps, I’m coming to terms with him not being this tiny little bundle anymore. I’m anxious as hell, but I’m bursting with pride. Another little milestone down.
A lifetime more to go.