Yesterday I suffered through that moment every mom dreads.
We were working on cleaning the gutters, my husband on a ladder and me at the foot of the ladder patiently waiting and praying to god that I could dial 9-1-1 from my cell phone. I happened to mention that I needed my work gloves or my hands were going to get all "hurty." (Yes, I say baby-words still, despite my son being 2 years old.)
Anyway...my son looks up at me and says, "I get gloves...barn...right back...stay here." He walked all the way to the barn by himself, looking back occasionally to reassure me that he was ok and I would "stay there" (in fact, he pointed and hollered..."stay there" several times just to be sure).
As I watched him walk, I was torn between a slight giggle at his obvious purposfulness and willingness to help with mundane chores like cleaning the gutters...and tears for the independence that I knew would one day appear. As I watched my little boy walk toward the barn, I couldn't help but think of they day we brought him home from the hospital...so helpless and needy. And here he was, directing me to stay put so he could take care of things.
He returned from the barn with my gloves with a bright smile and a twinkle in his eye and said, "I did it!"
He probably hasn't been a baby for a very long time...but now I have had that moment of realization and I recognize that he is indeed a little boy. I'm sad to see the baby days go...and I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a little afraid of what is to come. But I love my little boy and the outstanding person he is...yesterday, today, and tomorrow.