Each and every child that lives within the walls of Casa Izz has a special place in my heart that is theirs and theirs alone. Funny, huh? I’ll bet you didn’t think that I could find that much room in a place that is seemingly so small. But I did, and without much effort. And everyone thinks that there can’t possibly be enough love to go around in a big family. Pshaw I say to them. That’s because they’ve never had a big family.

Back to the subject at hand (I do have one, right? Gosh it really does feel like Monday). This morning, Séamus was sitting at the island in the middle of the kitchen (we use it as like a “breakfast nook” type thing…although it’s used for lunch and dinner too), watching me knead the bread. That’s always fun…having the 2 year old watch you try to cook, because the watching inevitably becomes helping….”Here Mommy! You need more flour!” as he dumps a cup full into the dough.

This morning, as Séamus “watched” me, we were chatting away (more he than I, really). He was going on and on about some wonderful thing that only a two year old can possibly understand, as I tried to follow him. Not an easy task, let me assure you. Then all of a sudden, he sighed, and said: “I wuvs you Mama”. I stopped what I was doing, looked up at him sitting there, smiled and said “I love you too, my baby!” Now mind you, I’ve been calling Séamus “my baby” since he really was my baby. This is that special thing about him that I was talking about to begin with…he’s the snuggle bug of the house. He loves to sit on my lap and just cuddle up and tell me how much he loves me. Usually he likes it when I tell him he is my baby. This morning was different. After I said that, he kind of sat there, and then said “Mama…I not your baby! Éamon you baby!” To which I replied “But Séamus, while you’re not the baby of the house, you are still Mommy’s baby, right?” “No.” he said rather defiantly. “Éamon you baby”

I must admit this made me very sad. I know that this day had to come, for it always does. It wouldn’t be good for him to have to face his friends later on in life, knowing that he was his “Mommy’s baby”. But even though I always know these things are coming, I’m never prepared enough when it does come. I suppose that’s because I really don’t want it to come, so I stay in denial until it really does. Even now, I’m hoping to convince him that he still is my baby, but in my heart of hearts, I know that we’ve come to an end of a period in a sense. He’s becoming a little boy, rather than a baby. And while it does make me sad when they start to try out their wings, it’s okay that they do. It’s not like he’s flying away tomorrow. Soon, enough, I’m sure. But I still have time.