For what feels like months now the small boy has keenly been watching his bigs perform the magic trick where they put solid objects in their mouths and make them disappear. For the last month or more, if he is close enough, he has been trying to grab the object and put it in his own mouth instead. He looks fondly at all foods and beverages,
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And I understand the bittersweetness of it all. It is good. I keep telling myself that it is good. Good that they aren't tied to me. Good that they can run faster than me and get most of a block ahead. Good that they can find their own snacks. But somedays, I just want them to want to snuggle in. Except they don't fit in my lap anymore. Big gangly things.
I quite liked this poem, ymmv of course. http://www.breastfeeding.com/reading_room/wean_me_gently.html
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And I know I still have snuggles to come and yes, it is good. It is good that he is growing, and gaining skills, and learning about things and how to make things happen. It's good, and I rationally know that, but still I find change hard, and well, there is this little tender being, who still has the softest silkiest hair, and the widest toothless grin, and big shreaks of enthusiasm, and ... and .... He's stopping being just mine and is becoming of-the-world and that is as it should be.
It is good. I will remind myself that and say it over again and know that there are others who say this in a chorus. Thanks.
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