The Orange Truck

Dear Peanut,

I came up the stairs to the sounds of bath time and was surprised to find you contentedly clutching a chunky orange truck, pushing it back and forth across the carpet in the bedroom while Daddy finished up Munchkin’s bath. Suddenly, you weren’t my baby anymore. A little boy crouched before me, playing with his cars.

I flopped down on the floor and made vroom vroom noises while you played a little longer, until it was time to get ready for bed.

When the lights are out and I rock you to sleep, my baby comes back for a little while. There are other times, too. When you’re sick or hurt or tired or just cranky, you want only Mommy. I have to admit I relish that. I know it won’t always be that way. And the day will probably come when you will want only to distance yourself from your parents. That’s natural, but we’re not ready for that yet.

Please don’t grow up too fast. Slow down and let me cherish these moments. Stay my baby for a while.


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