Today he’s one.
Tomorrow he’ll be driving me around town. Today he rides in his car seat narrating all he sees in baby babble and singing his own made up songs.
Tomorrow he’ll be having his wisdom teeth pulled. Today he went to the dentist for the first time.
Tomorrow he’ll eat more hamburgers than I can make. Today he signs “more” for raisins.
Tomorrow he’ll be practicing football and basketball. Today Mommy and Daddy are his jungle gym.
Tomorrow he’ll need shoes that are as big as boats. Today he cries because he can’t wear his sandals inside.
Tomorrow he’ll be working a summer job. Today he helps unload the lower rack of the dishwasher.
Tomorrow he’ll be doodling tanks and planes in his notebooks. Today he eats crayons.
So tonight I held him a little bit longer. Rocked him in the dark of his nursery. Felt the heaviness of his sleeping body against my chest. Because I can’t bear the thought of him being sixteen.