I'm Your Baby Forever

Yesterday, my baby boy turned three. One month ago, we used the last pull-up/diaper in our home. Tonight, I did something that I almost never did...I rocked my baby to sleep. I was adamantly opposed to rocking my child to sleep regularly, which was my personal preference. Tonight, I felt myself clinging to any piece of a baby/toddler that I might have around my house. So I rocked him. I told him, like I almost daily do, that he is a walking miracle child. In fact, last night when I was having this discussion with him, I asked him if he understood what a miracle is, to which he responded, "yes...Joseph, Jesus, and the Grinch." Sort of, buddy. And after I was done rocking him, I put him in his bed (which is newly without bed rails) and he opened his eyes to look at me and said, "sleep with me mommy." He says this every night. Tonight, I may have been tempted to jump in bed with him since my flight departs at 7:30 am and I won't see him for a few days. But, while I rocked him, he had some killer flatulence and I wasn't about to subject myself to that punishment. As I walked out, he said, "mommy...I'm your baby forever." I love those words. And now I understand why my parents called me their baby forever...annoyingly long. But I was their last. I get that now. We are done having kids. We are closed for business, so to speak. I have no regrets about that. But as of a few weeks ago, I find myself just longing to soak up time with my youngest. I'm sure it is due to the fact that I know I will never see this age again, and I actually really love the two year old age. Moreover, Fisher is like a kindred spirit of mine. And before anyone thinks it...I don't love one of my kids more than another, but there is certainly a different type of connection for me with Fisher. Adam understands Harrison in ways that I cannot relate to and I believe the same goes for my relationship with Fisher. Anyway, all of this has me thinking about if this time is like an Empty Nesters Syndrome; only such different points in their lives. But I desperately want to bring them back yet I'm so proud of who they are becoming and do not want to stand in the way of that. That's similar, right? Maybe I'm just looking to explain this new place of transition that I have found myself in unexpectedly. Adam and I keep hoping and praying that our life will have minimal transition as we have literally transitioned something huge every year since we were married. Now I'm starting to think that life is just a series of transitions. And that's what makes life a journey. How you live your life in those transitions seems to be what is most important.