So it happened.  I’m no longer the mom of a baby.  My youngest is now three: not a baby, not even a toddler… a real big boy. 

It's not like it happened overnight, but man, the last three years sure have flown by. I clearly remember the day he was born: we drove leisurely to the hospital for a non-stress test… and left two days afterward with a baby.  Now, three very short years later, we find ourselves putting our bed back up on its frame and clearing out the baby toys, to make room for the new big boy toys. 

Sigh.

That’s both a sigh of relief… for the years of night waking and diapers being over; and, a sigh of wistfulness… for the time when he was tiny enough to hold in the crook of my arm.

My big boy: He’ll talk your ear off.  He loves building and singing. He’s always been a super cuddle hog. And he still thinks his big sister is the best thing on the planet.In the blink of an eye, twelve seasons have passed, and my little baby is a big kid.  Parents: hug your babies.  Time goes by so fast.