This weekend, my “baby” will be 18 months old. Still quite young, by all accounts, still small and in need of constant supervision, but no longer a baby. I feel like it happened overnight, but I know it’s been in the works for quite some time.
In the past month or two, little Spencer has graduated to using a plate and silverware plasticware at the table. If you have listened to the show much, you know how much Jamie and I love the Tiny Diner placemat, and this new development means that we no longer are using the Tiny Diner. Bittersweet.
His feeding techniques are improving, but I won’t pretend I don’t have a big cleanup job after meals, particularly lunch, when he feeds himself yogurt and applesauce. (As a sidebar, this is one of the reasons I love having dogs. They make the mealtime floor cleanup a breeze.) However, I’m willing to trade a few more swipes at the table for his growing independence.
Every day, I’m amazed by the many new words he says. I’ve mentioned this to several people lately, and it’s true: I feel like this development stage is almost new to me, because Miles was 19 months old when Spencer was born and I was rather out of it during the last weeks of pregnancy and early weeks of having two under two. I can’t decide if Spencer is saying and doing more than Miles was at this age or if I just don’t remember. (Not that it matters at all, it’s just interesting to realize you can’t remember.)
Even with all of the new independence he is gaining, I’m excited to say that on Saturday, I will earn a new (imaginary) sticker on my Breastfeeding Badge — 18 months! Remember that post I wrote almost six months ago about our nursing journey winding down? Yeah, not so much. Turns out we both still really enjoy it. At this point, he is only nursing as a pre-bedtime and pre-wakeup activity and I’ll admit that I use the morning nursing session to stall the inevitable start to the day, but I think we both love the quiet time with just the two of us at the end and beginning of each day.
Throughout our recent move, I have donated or sold a good portion of our baby items, but there are lots of things I can’t part with yet. There are no plans for Baby #3 and even though we haven’t ruled out more children, it won’t be happening any time soon. While I’m happy about my boys growing and learning new things, I still felt a bit of sadness when I packed up those onesies and breast pump parts.
We’re trading in our pacifiers for Legos, rattles for toy trains. Every new day means they’re less “baby” and more “child.” But as long as I’m living, my babies they’ll be.