A couple of weeks ago, we celebrated my son's eighth birthday. He's growing tall so quickly that he'll be taller than I am in a couple of years. He's a big strong boy, for which I am very grateful.
But a part of him is still my little baby boy. He's had swimmer's ear since last Wednesday, and has required a lot of extra loving and snuggling to feel better.
This morning, as I sat at my computer, my big boy came in and gave me a hug. I turned into it and he slid himself onto my lap facing me with his arms around my neck. It was almost like holding my baby again.
I rocked forward and back with his head on my shoulder and told him how much I like him now, and to not feel bad when I miss my baby. He used to get upset when we talked about how cute he was because he thought maybe we liked him better when he was littler. And I told him how much I missed holding him and rocking him. That I remembered the moment he became too big to rock - he was so long at age 4 that he just didn't fit in my lap in a rocker anymore. So we quit trying. We could snuggle on the couch but the rocking chair was out. And I have missed that so much.
I just didn't realize it until this morning when I found my baby in my arms again. I love you, Z-boy. When you're little. When you're big. No matter how old you get, you will always be my baby.