In seven days, this child will go to kindergarten.
Sometimes I look at this boy and he looks tiny, and I want to wrap him up in a blanket and rock him to sleep. He seems to be all cheeks and big eyes and not-quite-pronounced-right words and he gets scared at night and needs his mama.
Sometimes I look at him and he looks huge, and I send him downstairs to get his own snacks and he remembers to rinse his toothbrush. He seems to be all limbs and head and big words such as water drainage pipe and he tells me he wants to play in his room alone please.
But is it any wonder it feels like that? Five short years ago, he looked like this:
I think in 30 years, it will probably be the same way. He'll be getting gray hair and I'll be amazed that he can pour his own milk.