I feel foolish for even thinking this, more so for writing it. . . but it occurred to me yesterday that my sons are reaching--maybe have already reached?--a point where they are no longer babies but toddlers. They now resemble little children much more than they resemble the little babies we brought home almost a year ago.
They are walking and attempting to communicate through signs and speech. Their movements are (mostly) purposeful, and it's clear that they understand a lot of what is said to them. They play with toys. Although their faces and arms and legs and hands and feet still have that adorable baby chubbiness, they are becoming more childlike and less babyish all the time.
It makes me wonder whether I fully absorbed all of the baby goodness I could during that fleeting first year. Did I spend enough time just holding them and drinking in their sweet scents and feeling their softness? Did I pay enough attention to the little baby noises that they made that I will remember them now that I will never hear them again?
I fear that I spent too much of the past year in survival mode and not enough time enjoying it. And now it is gone, and I will never get to experience it again.
It makes sad to realize that, although AJ and MJ are still here, my babies are gone. And for us, there will be no more babies.