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Parents of newborns are often told to enjoy these first years with their little one, because the time flies quickly. That may be hard to believe, especially during middle-of-the-night crying bouts, but I have found it really is true.
It seems like such a short while ago when I woke about a quarter after 4 in the morning and soon realized it was time for that momentous trip to the hospital. I remember so many of the details quite clearly – like me sitting by the phone waiting for the doctor to call back while Ken casually took a shower and got dressed.
Particularly vivid is the image of the clock behind the doctor’s shoulder, showing exactly 8:30 a.m. as the doctor informed us, “It’s a boy!” A split second of disappointment (I had been hoping for a girl) was soon replaced by an outpouring of love as I held my tiny newborn Benjamin close.
And now, that tiny newborn has just celebrated his sixth birthday! As Benjamin walks beside me, he barely fits under my armpit, and he weighs a hefty 50 pounds. In just a few weeks, he’ll be in first grade, spending the whole day away from Mommy.
How clearly I remember the anxious moments we had as he seemed to take forever learning to crawl, and then how quickly he was walking about. I remember the exact setting of his first steps (our backyard during a Father’s Day picnic the day after a family reunion). Now, the nearly half-mile walk to school is nothing, and he can easily walk a mile.
One area where we had no concern was in Benjamin’s verbal skills. On one of his checkups, the doctor asked if he was making certain sounds. “Oh, yes,” I replied, and proceeded to list the additional sounds in my little one’s repertoire. “Oh, then he’s babbling!” the doctor proclaimed.
By the time the “charts” said Benjamin should be talking in complete sentences, he was already chatting in full paragraphs! Now, he reads a simple 32-page book almost every day!
And from being totally dependent on Mommy for everything, he has grown to showing flashes of independence. Just the other day, I was on the phone for a very important matter, and it was lunch time. Instead of pestering me, Benjamin quietly got up from the sofa, went out to the kitchen, pushed a stepstool in place, got out a dish, opened the cupboard, picked out his favorite cereal and poured himself a bowlful. I arrived just as he was about to pour the milk, and helped him with that final step.
Another evening, he and I had been out watering the garden. I spilled water on him, and he wanted to change his pants. While I told his Daddy and Oma what had happened, Benjamin simply went upstairs, chose a pair of shorts from his drawer, changed and came back to the living room.
But he’s still my little boy. Most days he asks me to get his food and clothes, and even to help him dress. And he still wants me to play with him frequently throughout the day. Often, he even just wants me to cuddle with him as he watches TV or we read. And believe me, as often as I can, I want to enjoy those moments. I know they won’t last much longer.
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