Every year, around Landon's birthday, I think "this will be the year that he is no longer a baby". I have thought this every year since his first birthday. But when I look back at photos, I realize that he was still a baby. Second birthday, third birthday. Still an absolute doll with just enough baby face left.
Unfortunately, I think my time is up. I think this is the year I will be right. He just started preschool part-time. His baby fat is gone. He tells me I'm his best friend, and sometimes he slams the door when he's mad. But the amazing thing about being here before is I know that when he's five, I will look back at these days, and think "he was still so little. I hope I enjoyed it". And I do. Everyday. Not all day, but everyday I sit and look at him. I appreciate his youth. I reminisce about his baby days, and wish it didn't go by so quickly.
Last week, right before his bed time, he climbed up on the couch and curled up in my lap. I held him like that until he fell asleep, then carried him up to bed. While he was falling asleep, I told him about the day he was born. He nodded off and turned back into that baby.
Happy forth birthday my sweet man. And as cliche as I may sound, you will always be my baby.