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The Whuff, one year ago today. Of all the things that are unbelievable about this photo – the hoodie stands out just as much as the binky. He only took that binky for about the first two months, and even then inconsistently. And today… 90F. No hoodies in sight. No pants in sight either for that matter, especially as someone has become Pants Houdini.

One of my friends posted this little poem on Facebook today, and while it is the simplest thing in the entire world, something about it… it didn’t hit me right away. I read it and smiled. And then when I walked away from the computer to go and lie down while P napped, it hit me. The sads. And I sobbed like I haven’t sobbed in months. I don’t even have hormones to blame. Just yesterday I wrote about how awesome it is that Mr. Whuffles is getting so big and how I’m not in any way ready for Eventual Second Baby to be moved up on the grand schedule… still… oh, time. Time, you are a cruel, cruel mistress.

cleaning and scrubbing / can wait until tomorrow/ for babies grow up, as we’ve learned to our sorrow / so settle down cobwebs / dust go to sleep/ i’m rocking my baby / and babies don’t keep

Oh man, even just typing it out… that last line… “babies don’t keep” and the tears are welling up in my eyes. For it’s true, they just don’t keep. And by and large, I’m ok with that and I accept every moment with a little man who – while no longer fitting into one arm, still fits in my lap – as an amazing gift. But man, those moments. They just go too freaking fast.

That one simple line and man, I’m crying again. Going any further into the iPhoto archives would be an exquisite torture – remembering those tiny, tiny fingers and the smell of his head – the downy hair that looked like it could be dark brown someday. Milk drunk baby falling asleep on top of me and how I wouldn’t always move him right away. Holding him tight and whispering “You don’t have to grow up. You can just stay my tiny baby.” to which he’d smile as if to say “Oh, mom.”

And he didn’t. They never do. Babies don’t keep.

And this toddler won’t keep either. I love every moment of him, and some day I’m going to have to give him up. Some day, I’ll have emptier days – days when he goes to school and I am shared by other babies. My babies and then… then back to wrangling babies I don’t tuck in at night. I waited so long for this season of my life and it’s so, so fleeting. Babies just don’t keep.

I’m just going to stop there and grab my man and scoop him up and kiss his dirty fingers and scuffed knees and listen to him babble and let him make raspberries right in my face. Soak him up before I blink and I’m waiting for him to come home on the bus… waiting for him to come home from college…

Oh babies. Why can’t you keep just a little longer?

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