I am constantly amazed by how big and small my son seems. At the same time.
When we’re going somewhere and I put him in his car seat, he looks so small. But then I get him out and carry him a short way, I am reminded that he weighs nearly 30 pounds.
When he stands up and toddles around the room, he looks so big. But when I see a photo or video of him standing or walking, still looks small.
I get a little teary-eyed when I fold his little clothes. They’re just so little! But then I think about washing and folding all of his newborn clothes when I was pregnant. The clothes I fold now seem so big.
He feels like a giant in my arms as I rock him to sleep. His legs now hang down to my thighs and it’s hard to keep all of him cradled in my arms. But in the mornings when he wakes up, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and he burrows into my shoulder when I get him out of his crib, it’s like he’s a tiny baby again, not a toddler.
How much longer will this odd juxtaposition last? When will he stop being big and small, and just be big? I dread that day. I have been looking at pictures of CJ’s first few months fairly often here lately, and remembering what it felt like to hold such a tiny human being in my arms. To rock him to sleep, to carry him, to feel his weight on my chest or lap. I can hardly breathe under the weight of him now. I can’t stomach the thought of him being too big to lay on my chest.
Why can’t they just stay small for a little longer? Why do they have to grow so much these first couple of years? Not to compare my child to a dog, but I can understand now why people choose to have small dogs. They’re always small. I’ve always been a big dog person. My dogs are huge. They used to be small, but now they are big. But I’ve already decided that our next dog will be a small breed.
I just want something that will stay small and cuddly.
I am also experiencing a rather odd, but likely not too uncommon, big and small in another area of my life. My right breast seems to have given up the ghost when it comes to breastfeeding. It never becomes full with milk, and is nearly back down to its normal pre-baby size. But Ol’ Lefty is still gung-ho. But the time CJ’s bedtime nursing session rolls around, my left breast looks and feels like a large grapefruit, cut in half and stuck to my chest. The size difference is profound, and I hope it is not too noticeable to the casual observer. And I hope that I have no observers besides casual ones.
I did get to wear a normal bra the other day, though. So I got that going for me.