Skeeter’s first birthday is rapidly approaching.  While I should be gearing up for a birthday celebration, I am doing the complete opposite and bracing myself for a huge heartbreak.  It’s my last baby’s first birthday.  There will be no more. 

         

          I keep saying that the boys missed the memo stating that in exchange for free room and board, they are not allowed to grow up.  I joke, but seriously, if I could keep one of them little, I think I would.  Sure it’s nice to watch them grow and do school plays and achieve new goals, blah blah blah, yakkity yak, but I wouldn’t mind just keeping one of them about 6 -9 months old.  I didn’t realize that watching them grow up and slowly but surely become more and more independent would be so hard on me – so gut-wrenching, tear jerkingly heartbreaking.  I just thought we would all ease into the new stages and phases together.  For me, it seems more like an overnight thing.  Mega went from stringing words together to speaking in sentences that even make sense to people who aren’t around him every day overnight.  Skeeter went from commando crawling to hands and knees overnight.  There was no gradual phasing out of baby-like behaviors.  They keep going to sleep with baby-like behaviors, and waking up without them – waking up like little adults.  I don’t know that I am ready for Mega and Skeeter to keep up that way.  With Mega it’s a bit easier because I know I still have some baby time left with Skeet.  But with his first birthday looming over me, eh, not so much.  This birthday is more of a Death Star than a happy day…

          There will be no more babies.  It’s a relief and it’s a heartbreak.  It’s odd to know that the last first birthday is the last.  That Skeeter’s first steps will be the last first steps that matter for us.  So many last firsts… 

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