Thursday, 27 June 2013

My Other Baby

If you want to get Avery riled up, just call him "the baby". Ooooh! There is nothing he hates more, and there is no greater insult in his opinion. In fact, not only has he always disliked being coined "the baby" of our household, he has done everything in his power to make sure that he is on an equal playing field with both of his siblings. Through some miracle or what I sometimes wonder is sheer determination on Avery's part, he has managed to be almost the same size as Elliot, and whenever we are out and about together, people always ask if they are twins. He has also played on the same soccer team as Elliot for the past two years (the first year simply as a call-up), but from the sidelines, you would never guess that he is two or three years younger than the other players. In terms of school, he has worked his hardest this year to be able to read the first Harry Potter book on his own simply because it is a "big kids'" book.

So, it really should not come as any surprise when I say that Avery is ecstatic that we are having another baby. From the moment he found about Thing 4, he has emphatically stated that he is no longer the baby and never will be again! And for the past 19 weeks, I have been more than happy to allow him to pass on this title to Thing 4 so readily, but over the past couple of days this has really started to bother me. Don't get me wrong: I am thrilled to have another baby and I am so absolutely in love with Thing 4 that I could not be any more happier; however, I can't seem to shake feeling a pang of sadness over the end of Avery's babyhood. He has been my baby, even though he has not liked to admit it, for the past 9 1/2 years, and like the other two kids, the minute a new baby enters the household, he is going to seem so old to me. All you moms out there know what I am talking about. You are sitting in the hospital bed, holding you brand new baby, when suddenly your other children walk in the room and it is like they have aged instantly. All of a sudden you are looking at them through a new pair of lens and they seem to have grown a foot. I am really dreading this moment. When I look at Avery I see a little boy. I see my baby, and in twenty short weeks that is all going to change. He is going to walk into that hospital room and suddenly he is no longer going to seem so little. He is going to be my almost ten year old son. We are talking double digits! Eeeeeek! What is this mama going to do?

Well, I am going to do exactly what all the moms before me have done, and I am going to deny, deny, deny!

Nope, I do not see a nine year old boy before me:

^^Okay, so this photo makes it pretty easy to deny^^

Nope, no matter how old he gets or how tall he gets, I will only ever see my adorable little boy, and I will always remember him sleeping with a bed full of stuffies and calling websites "dot coms".

Sorry, Avery, it's just not that easy to shake off a decade of being our baby.

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