I've lost my Chub-chub

Chub-chub is gone. I've lost him.

I can't really say exactly what day or time of day it happened, but he's gone. I miss him so much, I'll likely never get over it.

You see, we went to Winco this afternoon to do the requisite grocery shopping (yag) and I had Peanut and the Chub-chub with me. When I went in I did my 'pre-trip check': kids: check, money: check, shopping cart: check, grocery list: check. All things set to rock and roll, and get my least favorite chore (after cleaning the floors) taken care of.

It was an uneventful trip. I managed 8 grocery bags worth of meat, fresh produce, spices, and various canned/frozen goods for a mere $87. I was feeling pretty good.

Then it happened: I realized I lost my little Chubber. Somewhere between putting the groceries in the back of the van and depositing my cart in the shopping cart corral my baby was no more.

You see, I had my boy wrapped in my arms, his silky little blond head resting heavily on my shoulder, hair tickling my cheek, with his strong little body melding itself bonelessly to me, his brown leather shoes banging into my legs just above my knees. When did this happen? When did my baby turn into this cuddly and beautiful sleepy little boy? He really is turning into a little boy. He's most certainly a toddler who will be 2 years old this August.

Looking at him in the rear view mirror on the way home I watched as the lids of his sparkly cerulean blue eyes became too heavy to hold up, and the dust the sandman had sprinkled upon him took him to the land of nod. I wondered: how much longer will he be even this little? I have so completely enjoyed his babyhood. I, for once, am not guilty of 'wishing away' his little years. Quite the contrary, I've wished I could keep him little for just a while longer. I'll never forget the first seconds I saw him when he came to see me in this world; I'll never forget the bliss I felt as I nursed him at my breast or breathing in his sweet milky breath as I rocked him before bed.

My mother and dad always told me that as you get older that time starts to go by faster; they never told me that when I had my own babies that if you so much as blink that a season goes by. And, that no matter what, they don't stay small: 'babies don't keep' is what a picture frame I have says. I have never heard such an understatement.

I will cherish all the time I have with my boy (and my girl) while they are small. The time is so fleeting, and only the Good Lord knows how much longer they'll want to snuggle down into my neck and wrap sticky fingers 'round the tendrils of my hair. How many more little wet kisses have I been granted? I'll never know until they're gone.

For now, I'll hold tight to my little ones while they're small and while I still can.