Friday, February 3, 2012
My back is tired. Macho Man is a little over two and I still pick him up and carry him around a good bit. People question why I don't just let him walk. Because. Because I don't want to. Because when I pick him up and he puts his little hands on my cheeks to be able to look me in the eyes, my heart melts. Because one day in just a few short years I won't be able to. And he wouldn't want me to even if I could. Because he is the last of my babies I will ever have the privilege to carry in my arms. The evil irony to having three children is that your last baby wants to grow up fast to keep up with the "big" kids. As a mommy, you realize how quickly those years slip past and you want to keep them a "little" kid. I can't remember the last time I walked around carrying Lovebug in my arms. I can remember the first time walking around with her, but not the last. Birdie is already too big for me to carry around. But Macho Man? While he may seem "too big to carry" by many, to his mommy, he is still just right for a little while longer.