The Baby

Aidan is almost 3.  I am having a hard time wrapping my mind around that one.  Some days, to me, he's still my baby.  The crotchety baby who screamed seemingly nonstop for the first 2 years of his life.  Every frustration, every disagreement, every objection was met with ear splitting screams, and he screamed until he decided he was done screaming.  No amount of negotiation, bargaining, feeding, meeting his needs, or appeasement would cease the screaming.  He was just done when he was done.  

Aidan screaming 8-24-05:

Aidan screaming Spring 06:

Aidan screaming Spring 07:

Aidan screaming last week:

But he was also my cuddly baby.  When Dane was a baby, he was all smiles and activity.  If he cried it was because he was hungry.  Period.  He crawled early, walked everywhere at 10 months, and had little use for mommy snuggles and silly little things like sitting in my lap or rocking.  But Aidan likes to crawl up on your lap and sit for a spell.  He wants hugs and kisses and is usually eager to reciprocate.  A recent favorite activity is "blowing strawberries" on our faces and calling them kisses.

The nonstop senseless screaming has greatly decreased since Aidan started talking 10 miles a minute a few months ago.  Sometimes he still throws a wall-eyed hissy fit, but we have learned the fine art of patience with him.  I now know the definition of "strong willed child".  

Something that comes to him honestly, I understand.

As his final months as a "terrible two" mercifully start to wind down, I still can't help but think of him as my little baby.  He has always had this baby fine, white blonde hair that curls up at the ends.  When it's humid, we are treated to little ringlets on the sides and back of his head.  "Angel hair" as one of the church ladies calls it (she does not know Aidan well enough, obviously).  It's so sweet to have this snuggly little cutie-pie crawl up in your lap, and play with his precious baby blonde curls.

But the baby is not a baby anymore.  He is a tall, skinny toddler who is potty trained and talks with an inexplicably thick southern accent.  He sleeps in a big boy bed and is getting less and less scared of water everyday.  He slides down the pole on our backyard play set with no fear in sight.  Dane is still hesitant to slide down the big pole, but Aidan shoots down it like a champ.  Literally like a champ.  He pumps both fists in the air when he hits the ground.

And the little blonde curls?  Gone.  Last night during Dane's haircut in a moment of clipper-happy haircut hysteria, we decided that Aidan was not a baby anymore.  And we cut.  And cut.  And cut.  And now he is 18 and going to college.  Okay, maybe not.  But he might as well be.  Because he is definitely a big boy now.  

Sorry, ladies.  He's never getting married.  Or going to kindergarten ever.  Ever.  Because he can't.  He's still just a baby and he has to stay home and snuggle on the couch with his mommy.

And denial is just a river in Egypt.