And just like that, my little boy has grown up. Into a big little boy. ‘You can go back to your own bed now, Mommy’ he says. Yes, he will still call me for midnight cuddles when he is scared (he’s in his own big boy room now) but he will also let me know when he’s ‘done with hugs now, Mommy.’ Ah man. This window into his world via night time cuddles has officially closed.
Ilan wipes away my kisses (I don’t want your germs, Mommy’), gives me his cheek rather than his lips and reluctantly offers me half-hearted-limp-limbed squeezes these days. It’s all too much and it’s happening way too fast. This growing up thing just started without warning and I’ve been told that time only speeds up and you have to jump on that train or get left behind. Next thing I know, Ilan will be a sulky teen and walking ten steps behind me.
Be present, they say. Be present and let them be little. Before they aren’t little anymore.