Leaps and Bounds

I find myself in a delicate state yet again.

After a rousing hot-wheels race on the floor with my beaming son, he looked into my eyes and said "Mommy. Potty." Promptly stood up and quickly walked to the bathroom door and pushed it open. His eyes again locked on mine as I came over and he said, "Hurry. Potty." I followed him in and undressed him quickly before sitting him down on the potty. He sat there calmly for a moment and then asked to get down. He slipped from my grasp and slipped around and enthusiastically flushed the toilet, grinning widely as he watched the water rush out.

In this moment my heart soared and broke all at once. Nile will be 2 years old in less than a week and I tremble at the knowledge that my baby boy is long gone. That little creature that relied entirely on me to care for his every need is gone. Now, I see before me a miniature man wandering at my side. I ask him questions and he gives me intelligent answers. Each morning I ask him what he wants for breakfast and each day I hear "I want meal (oatmeal)," "I want yogurt," or "I want cereal." He loves watching my dad and mom drive in their trucks and to his delight he spends every evening digging through his toy bucket looking for matching hot wheels to Grandma and Grandpa's trucks.

With no prompting from me, my little man has begun what I see as the final step between dependence and independence. I should have expected him to step into this on his own. He weaned himself from nursing, from his binkie, from sippy cups. He requested a pillow for bed, he wants to get into his chair by himself, he doesn't want to hold my hand while we walk, he climbs into the car on his own, he puts his shoes on and takes them off himself. Thanks to Grandpa, Nile even quotes Blazing Saddles.

I miss my little infant so much sometimes. I miss the warmth of his tiny body snuggled against my chest. I miss his quiet cry. I miss his little tiny baby neck. I miss the unique connection felt when nursing. I miss his little tiny fingers wrapped tightly around one of mine. I miss those quiet moments late at night when he had cried out for me and was now resting serenely.

But I love my growing little man. I love hearing unique new sentences from him, like today's "I'm driving the car Mommy." I love his enormous fat feet (Ya my 2 year old wears a size 7 kids shoe). I love his curiosity in his world. I love his adorable obsession with trucks. I love when he says "Cameron, Iraq, Kuwait," because I so badly want him to respect the sacrifice his uncle made. I love our nightly cuddles before bed. I am so so very lucky to have him in my life as he is my driving force.

I only pray that I'm doing a good job. God help me, I feel like I haven't got a clue.