Three Years Old, For the Last Time

Dear Daniel,

Tonight before I put you to bed, I hugged you extra tight and said, "This is the last time I'm hugging you as a three year old!" And you squirmed with delight like you always do and flashed me your sweet grin. How can it be that my baby is turning four tomorrow?

I've been thinking a lot about last times recently. The other day, I came across a diaper that never got used. I didn't want to throw it away. Isn't Mommy silly? Even though I am so proud of you for becoming potty trained, that diaper brought back so many memories of laying you down to change you, tickle you and give you raspberries on your belly. I tried, but couldn't remember the last time I changed your diaper. If I knew then it was to be the last time, I might not have rushed through the process.

Who would've thought a diaper had such sentimental powers?

Then there was the time when I took a little longer than usual cleaning up after dinner. When I went upstairs to join Daddy in tucking the kids in, I was surprised to see you sleeping on the bottom of the bunk bed. I turned to Daddy, and he said that you were ready for the Big Boy bed. I started to protest that you weren't ready yet (or was it that I wasn't ready?) but when I saw your contented smile I couldn't resist. What a bittersweet moment. I wished I had known the night before that it was to be your last time in the crib. I would have plumped up your bumper pads, tucked your favorite blanket in with a kiss and said a special prayer. Maybe I would have taken a photo for your scrapbook.

Sometimes, as I'm washing the dishes, I look outside and see you joyfully whizzing by on your bicycle. I say to myself, he's growing too quickly. When was the last time he rode his tricycle? I can't remember.

I know there are many last times ahead. There will be the last time you need help taking a bath. The last time you will play with your toy trains. The last time you'll need a reading lesson. And the biggie no Mommy ever wants to think about, the last time you live under our roof.

So if you wonder why I'm always taking photos or staring at you intently at times or hugging you extra tight, just know that Mommy hasn't flipped out. She just wants to preserve all those special and ordinary moments for those days when her memory fails and she can't remember the last time.

Happy Birthday to you, our dear Daniel!

"Can a woman forget her nursing child, and not have compassion on the son of her womb? Surely they may forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands." Isaiah 49:15-16