After laughing hysterically at the selfie my first baby and I took at bedtime, it instantly reminded me of another picture of that first baby. Though he will be 5 years old in just two months I remember the other picture, taken at just 5 days old, like it was yesterday. Big ass lips and a big heart to match. It makes me happy and sad all at the same time.
My first baby and I were inseparable. I used to say that the umbilical cord was never truly cut the day he was born. I was OBSESSED with him, and I still am that’s why even though I love all my minions equally when it comes to my first baby I am deeply moved about anything that deals with him.
I have to admit that this past year at four years-old has been a tough one for me and my sidekick. I’m not sure if it’s a cross-country move or trying to figure out balancing three kiddos and not just one or the fact that I read little boys between the age of 4 and 5 have the same levels of testosterone as a 12-year-old going through puberty. We’ve had our fights and he is growing to be more independent. He stands his ground against what I ask at times and questions me and my motives more than any one person in my life. I think of his past, present and future as if it were my own. Mulling over the choices I make for him and the words I say to him as if they were my last. How can someone so little have such a huge impact? Ever since the day he was born he has, I shouldn’t be surprised that 5 years later it’s effect on me is almost a living breathing beast on its own.
As I laid in my bed staring at the two pictures above I realized that though he is his own little person he is so much of me. Not just in DNA and looks, but more so his personality, his quirks, likes, dislikes, the way he handles emotions and a million and one other attributes that I see my own reflection in. This I now know to be the sole reason we butt heads, we are so very much alike. Somewhere in the middle of a blink of an eye, my little baby has become a little boy. With that same blink he has become not only a little independent person but also an extension of the person I am. My breath is literally taken away as I look at him across the room.
There are days we clash. Days it pains me that he would rather read a book on his own than spend alone time with me. Days when his daddy is so much cooler than me. But those days are outnumbered by the ones where he tells me how much he loves me or makes me a picture or calls out for me just because. The stressful times are put to shame by the times we share holding hands, hugging, cuddling or just talking. Even though my baby is no longer a baby he will always be my first baby.