I held my baby nephew for the first time yesterday.
He’s a few weeks old but was just able to come home this weekend.
I marveled at his tiny hands, feet, legs, arms, fingers, toes…
Were my boys ever this small?
Maybe not quite, as my nephew is a peanut, but mine weren’t much bigger.
But as I held him and he drifted off to sleep, my own “baby” came into the room.
Dark hair turned lighter from all his time in the sun this summer, skin browned(despite using SPF 50 on him at all times), built solid and strong. Laughing and smiling, dimples flashing. Talking a mile a minute.
My youngest baby is 4, headed to school 5 days a week this fall. Able to keep up with his big brothers(and sometimes best them).
Strollers, diapers, pacifiers, middle of the night feedings: all a thing of the past.
But as I pass the baby back to his mom, I don’t feel the slightest twinge of regret that my baby is a “big boy” instead of a newborn.