13

They turn 13 in 40 minutes.

My tiny babies, now both taller than me, will be teens.

Babyhood is long gone. The last moments of childhood are quickly slipping away.

This transition feels the hardest of all the transitions. Those first days, weeks, months are still so vivid. Piles of diapers folded and waiting, the endless laundry, a counter full of bottles. Holding tiny babies in the dead of night.

Tiny hands gripping my finger. Arms stretched high, begging to be lifted into my arms. Giggles. Therapy….endless days of therapy.

Tiny boys that grew day by day, until one day in May they were suddenly my height. It didn’t last long. Each day of summer they grew and now both are taller than me. When they walked in front of me today I noticed it more than ever.

It’s not just their height, many things are changing now. One takes it in stride. One fights it.

Sweet boy…there is no reason to fight it. You can’t stop it. Trust me, if there was a way I would have found it.

Or…maybe I wouldn’t. We laugh at the same jokes. We have deep conversations. They have thoughts and ideas all their own. I see glimpses of the men they will become and I like what I see. It is exciting.

I wouldn’t mind tucking a sweet baby head under my chin one more time. But I also don’t mind a sweet kiss on my cheek as one or the other whispers he loves me as he grabs his dinner plate.