Asher will be four next week. Part of me feels like he's already passed this milestone - the shift in his maturity has been obvious this fall - but another part of me can't quite believe that his baby days really are gone. There are only traces of babyhood left - holding his blankets in the late afternoons, saying "pertach" instead of "attach" (I suspect this may be one of those words that becomes a part of our family vocabulary; all of us, including Silas, have picked up on it). As always, he is barreling forward developmentally. His little imagination has become the most important aspect of his play - toys are merely props to act out his internal world. I could watch him all day long. He is fascinated with heroes - David (as in, King, Slayer of Goliath), Peter the Magnificent, knights, soldiers ... it is innocent and enchanting and all that is sweet about little boys. Combine that with the fact that he can brush his own teeth and buckle his own seatbelt, and four promises to be a good year.
Silas, of course, is determined to catch up with him, regardless of how impossible that may be. Silas can introduce his own ideas into conversation, tell you when his diaper is dirty (not that he cares, or wants you to change it, or wants to sit on the potty. Of course. But he is more aware of what's going on), and reach his own sippee cup on the counter. He is also, slowly, beginning to follow directions without constant prompting/ prodding, even though it's obvious we are foiling his plans. Sunday morning he started to run away from me, and when told to come back, he BURST into tears, turned around, and walked back to where I was. The whole room cheered. The essence of learning self-control is doing what you don't feel like doing, and we are seeing seeds of that in Silas. As hesitant as I was to put him in a classroom six months ago, I am now just as convinced he is ready, and am hoping he will be able to start in January at Asher's school. When we dropped Asher off this morning Silas started to cry, "I want to go too!" He is ready - to make his own little friends and paint his own little handprints on turkeys and valentines. I hope he can start in a few weeks.
All of this to say, I love the stages my little boys are in. And focusing on that helps keep this moment in time - big pregnant and uncomfortable, and all that entails - in perspective. I wish I could say I love being pregnant. I love and appreciate and understand the blessing of pregnancy, but I don't love the actual experience. And I wish I could say I'm enthralled with tiny babies. I am, in spurts, but mostly the next six months will be just getting through it, honestly. But all of that is okay. Because this roundness, that is causing me blood sugar trouble and heartburn and sleeplessness and insane hormones, is very soon going to be a tiny girl, toddling down my hallway, calling for her brothers, pushing strollers or rockets or whatever she loves. Pretty soon I will get to watch her grow, too.
We have a lot to look forward to.