Bye, Bye Babyland

I found myself lingering a little bit too long in my son’s classroom at daycare this week, taking a few minutes longer than necessary to pack up his empty sippy cups and lunch containers, and making sure he leaves wearing both shoes (he tends to reflexively take them off and toss them out of his way as soon as he gets in the door) before finally zipping up his orange puffy jacket.

It’s not that I actually have time on my hands. I’ve got plenty of other things to do – including heading down the hall to my daughter’s classroom to collect her and her things. But I’ve got a good reason to dawdle: It’s Isaac’s last week in babyland.

You see, next week he moves up to the next classroom, where all the kids are walking and some of them are talking and none of them are little babies anymore. Ike is just about 19 months old now. He’s not the little gooey blob of cuddles he once was, and his natural progression to the toddler room is proof positive of that fact.

Long gone is the sweet little baby who used to recline against my bent legs while I would lay in bed reading a book in the middle of the night. He has been replaced by this amazing into-everything busybody who has a will of his own and the best giggle I have ever heard. While I welcome this new little boy with wide open arms, I can’t help but feel wistful for the littler boy we’re all leaving behind in the months that have flown by so quickly.

I’m very excited for the new milestones he’s achieving – walking; crawling all the way up the stairs by himself while my heart lodges itself in my throat thinking about how far he could fall; applauding for himself and shouting “yay!” whenever he does something totally new. There are a slew of those “yay” moments awaiting him and that’s so exciting. But I’ll always miss the smaller version of him who now lives in our family history book.

I’ll also miss the teachers who have nurtured him since my maternity leave ended when he was just 13 weeks old. They have been a part of Isaac’s life even longer than that because they got to watch me waddle around the school when I was pregnant with him and picking up his big sister every day. They taught Lucy, too, and I’m sure that my kids are the sharp, sparkling goofballs that they are in no small part because of the influence of their teachers.

The good news is that we also know and love the teachers who will be welcoming Ike to his new classroom. Just like they did with Lucy, the are there to usher our growing boy (and us parents) into the next phase of childhood. Now that Ike is finally on his feet, I bet that he’ll do his best to run at full speed right through their open classroom door.