This week marks 23 months for our little guy Sam. Josh reminded me this weekend that when Jack was this age, we were making preparations for Sam and most certainly treating Jack like a big boy, not a baby. Of course, when compared to a four-year-old, Sam is definitely still a baby, right??
All around the house I'm noticing things that make me wonder if I'm resisting this little one's leap into full-blown boyhood. Take the highchair for instance. Sam has long claimed a spot at the table with the rest of the family. I convinced Sam to sit in it a couple of weeks ago to eat a container of applesauce, but mostly he'd rather play musical chairs at the kitchen table and try out each location...including sometimes "Daddy seat! Mommy seat!" I can recall sequestering the same high chair to the basement for several months back when Jack graduated to the table, and Sam was not quite ready to enjoy its utility. This time moving it down to the basement storage is a little more like letting go.
Or what about that stack of bibs occupying space in one of the kitchen cabinets? Sam pretty much refuses to wear one these days. In fact, I can't remember the last time I managed to convince him to sport one. Yet I still can't manage to relocate them or pass them along to a new owner. It's too much like letting go.
How about the not one, but two, diaper champs we own? There's one in our bathroom and another up in Sam's room. I quit using them to house dirty diapers ages ago, and then wet ones quite a long time ago too! These days the diapers typically go straight out to the trash can. The diaper champs became one more thing I forgot to empty the day before trash pick-up. Of course, I check them every now and then these days in case the babysitter or the grandparents actually drop a diaper in, which does occasionally happen. But isn't that just further evidence that I should put them away? Nope, I guess that would be letting go.
It's letting go, because this time there is no baby on the way that will soon call the highchair back into action or needing those bibs to catch pureed carrots, squash and peas or soiling close to a dozen diapers a day to fill those diaper champs. I don't want this post to look like a sob story, it's merely a collection of my observations as I see these things in my house each day. Our family of four is quite a happy crew. So, don't mistake my ramblings as the yearnings for a new addition. I have no doubt I'll see plenty of comments along the lines of, "it's just time to have another one." I already routinely field the question: "I guess it's time to try for a little girl now, right?" The thing is I don't want to have another baby just because I'm sad that my youngest is about to turn two. I mean when would it end? It just doesn't seem like the best way to determine if we're ready to grow our family again.
I don't know what the good Lord has planned, but I know He will help me let go when the time is right...hopefully, before Sam leaves for kindergarten!