When You Realize You Have a Little Boy

Seeing Tristan out-in-the-wild today truly confirmed what I already knew: he isn't a baby anymore. On our field trip to the local children's museum I was offered a stroller when I came through the door. Forget that he's never been in one before - I knew today he would want to walk! He would have run around all day until he collapsed in the burlap potato garden if I'd let him. He was so happy.

He didn't want to leave Wonderland. No matter how far we strayed he always came back. There is a part of the maze where you can walk through blue vinyl strips. It's like a car wash for kids, but bigger kids go wildly charging through. Well, Tristan wanted to be that big, too, and was so frustrated when he couldn't play chicken with the bigger boys and instead wound up on his bum. I cleared a path on the edge and let him think he ruled the blue vinyl.

He played. He bounced up to other children. He laughed with joy.

He even rode on their very beautiful Dentzel carousel; I chose the biggest, toughest looking rabbit jumper.

He went on his first cab rides and when we joined the older children for snack, he pulled out one of those sweet little chairs and sat down at the table like the other kids. He didn't want me to take his Goldfish out of the bag. Of course not! Eating from the plastic baggie is half the treat, and so there he sat, chomping away and swinging his legs under the table.

I can't describe the feeling that came over me as I sat with him talking about our adventures. So much love, so much pride - that such a tiny baby had grown into a little boy - and he is good, and funny, and smart, and thoughtful, loving, silly, and sweet.

Whatever all those feelings plus so many more add up to be - that's what it was.

The feeling of being a mother.