My baby is not a baby any more. As of 5:45 tonight, he is a toddler. A 1 year old. His inaugural act as a toddler? To lay in bed "reading" his book about farm animals and their babies instead of sleeping, for an hour after I put him to bed. I went to check on him to make sure he was ok, because I could hear him chattering and growling, and he looked up at me with the sweetest smile the instant the door opened. My little boy. My baby. I think of how much he's grown, physically, and how much he's grown developmentally. No longer the helpless newborn, he can make his desires known with the assistance of some creative guesswork, his delighted grin, his little happy dance that is almost always accompanied by clapping. He knows what a dog is, even if he doesn't quite get the concept of plurals yet (our two dogs are referred to as dog dog). He knows his name, his mama and dada. He pats his stuffed jaguar on the head. He's turning into a little boy and leaving babyhood behind.
Goodnight my baby.