My baby turned 6.
Six!
I know every parent says this, but honestly, all those clichés people throw around when your kids are little, they’re annoying because they’re true.
“The days are long, but the years are short.”
Yep.
Turns out they weren’t lying.
When your kids are babies, life is so intense that you can barely breath. You’re surviving. You’re running on caffeine, adrenaline, and whatever crumbs of sanity you can find between diaper changes and sleep deprivation.
And then one day, somehow, your baby is six years old.
The first thing out of his mouth on his birthday morning?
“Mom, I don’t need water wings in the pool anymore. I’m 6 now!”
Excuse me, sir.
You were literally born five minutes ago.
At least he still wants cuddles. For now.
I know this stage doesn’t last forever because I’ve already watched it happen with his older brother. One day you’re their entire world, and the next they’re too busy, too cool, or too distracted to curl up beside you on the couch. Or hold your hand walking to school. Sniff!
So I’m soaking up every cuddle I can get.
I wish I could go back and do it again with the knowledge I have. Go back with the calmness, the confidence, and the understanding that eventually everyone sleeps through the night.
Honestly, no wonder grandparents love grandbabies so much.
They get all the cute baby snuggles without being used as an all-you-can-eat buffet 24 hours a day. They get the smiles, the giggles, the first steps, and then they hand them back and go sleep for eight uninterrupted hours.
It’s genius.
Because let’s be real. Growing a human, giving birth, nursing, surviving on no sleep, and keeping tiny people alive is traumatic. Beautiful. Amazing. Worth every second.
But traumatic.
And somehow, after all of that, you blink, and your baby is 6.
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