My Baby Boy is Five Today

On a memo board above my computer screen is a picture of Owen age 6 months, bundled in a blue snowsuit and held by Bob for a brief trip outside the baby house walls. Next to that is one from his 2 year photo shoot; at which he didn’t want to cooperate at all and we were happy to get one or two smiles out of him. At the top corner, a snap shot of him beaming broadly on one of the many days he and I spent playing and laughing when he was 3. And then a picture of him and Cearra last year, his hand resting lightly on her arm, both of them happy.

Each of those days, each memory, is still crystal clear in my mind. All I have to do is reach back a bit and pull it up. So how did it happen that five years have passed so quickly?

I’ve seen so many changes in him over the past few months. The way he communicates; the way he interacts with the world. The friendships he’s formed separate of me. Most of all, his ability to take care of himself and his desire to do things on his own; I hear, “I can do it” several times a day now.

Truth is, he just doesn’t need me in the same way now that he is five. And while I celebrate his growth and adore every aspect of his blooming (and funny) personality, I'd be lying if I said I don't sometimes miss my little baby.



Yesterday I went to buckle him into his car seat, and he stopped me, saying, “I can handle this”. Yes Owen, but I’m not sure your mama can.