Bigguy and Littleman spent the weekend with the in-laws. When they left, Litleman was still my baby. Yeah, he's 16 months old now, but he still looked like a baby. Pudgy cheeks, teeeth open-tongue-sticky-out-smile, kinda shakey with movements outside of the "comfort zone", any parent gets the idea. When he came home on sunday, not even a full forty-eight hours later, he wasn't my baby any more. Now, he is my little boy. The cheeks aren't as pudgy, the smile is that of a boy, not a baby, his movements are sure, and controlled.
My sister, when I called her this morning to tell her, remeberred immediately when it happened to Bigguy. Hubby also remembers clearly when it happened with Bigguy. I know it happened before, but the memory of it is hazy, it doesn't seem like it struck me all at once like it did now. I am stuck wondering if I have enough pictures of his 'babyface', and looking for the endearing mannerisms that were present just a few days ago.
Soon, I will have another, and once more will have to remember every baby thing, because the grow so fast.
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