Little Men

I am raising little men. There are days I wish for infanthood again (just proving, God miraculously wipes our memories of the nighttime feedings and blowout diapers). Just for a few minutes to hold the little, ball like baby up against my chest. To put on the tiny diapers. To brush my cheeks against the soft "foo" hair. But it is not to be. Those days are gone and I now have one toddler and one...well, I am not sure. Our family still refers to Brayden as "baby," but as he walks his dumptruck down the hall and starts babbling with dramatic hand gestures, showing off his big boy teeth he just acquired, I am pretty sure he is not a baby. (His food consumption alone would prove this point. He eats more than his mom.)

As a parents, we are raising our kids for the future. We are teaching them things today, so they will survive in the world tomorrow. Sometimes I struggle with this so much. I want to savor their cute baby antics, at the same time knowing, I am the one who is responsible to stop them. I am the one to teach gavin to drink from a big boy cup and it is time to put your "froggy milk" away. I am the one who has to stop Brayden from touching the wine glasses no matter how much the clinking of them hitting each other makes you burst into giggles. I have to take the pacifier away and sequester blanky to room time only, even if it causes you tears. I am the one who says that you have to walk instead of being carried, though I want to hold you to me forever!

It's hard. But God is teaching me to take joy in the glimpses of the men you will become. Watching Gavin kiss Brayden with the salutation "Mommy loves you, Daddy loves you, Jesus loves you...night night." To see Brayden signing "more" for the first time and he learns to politely ask for food. Having Gavin throw his hand out to stop me from crossing the street, because I did not look for "cars coming". Seeing Brayden clap after he puts his blocks back in their tub. These are successes. These are the little men I am praying they will become.

And so, I try not to grieve the growing process, but appreciate it. I try not to be sad at the memories, but be thankful for the moments. And I try to appreciate each season, because all too soon they won't be "little" men anymore.