One of the worst things about being a parent is watching your kid grow up. I’ve been watching my son go through both literal and figurative growing pains since the day he was born. Each new achievement has been bitter sweet. The day he started crawling, the day he started walking, the day he first explored grass*, the day he said “dada” for the first time, the day he willingly went into the pool for the first time, the day he stopped sucking his thumb. Every moment has been exciting because I can literally watch him grow up, before my eyes. And every moment has been another stab in the heart because I am newly reminded that he won’t be “my baby” forever. The nights where we snuggle on the couch watching television could end sooner, as opposed to later. The days where he comes running to me with his major cuts and scrapes could be drying up before my very eyes. This is the shittiest thing and the greatest thing about being a parent: watching the kid in question grow up.
We’re on the precipice of big-huge changes around here and I don’t like.