Lately we’ve been cuddling, me and Jack.

I woke him up last night, did you know? It’s been getting colder lately (in the 60s at night! gasp.) and I always want to make sure my little bambino is warm all night. So I sneak in there, ever-so-quietly after he falls asleep, and gently place a blanket on him. But last night he woke up. I scared him and he cried and cried and cried. And then I cried and sobbed and cried and cuddled him for 45 minutes.

He’s growing up. In less than two weeks he’ll be one and I won’t get to count by weeks or months anymore. He’ll just be a one-year old. He’ll outgrow his bottle. When will I get to cradle him and love him if he doesn’t take a bottle? And when he starts walking? Will he run into my arms or away from them?

Oh, Baby Jack. Soon I can’t call you that anymore. I’ll have to bite my tongue and call you Jack Jack, and I’ll die inside.

But this is good, right? Every child has to grow up and we can’t stop it. Tyler and I pray every night for Jack to keep growing healthy and strong. And we’ve been blessed that he has. We’re lucky, right? Right?

Can’t I just keep him little forever?