Cody's last day of preschool is today.
I remember struggling with the decision to put him in preschool in the first place. I wrestled with feelings of anxiety...would he be ready, would this be too much for him, was I even ready to let my baby go? Mike talked me down from my cliff and helped me realize that it would be good for him, and for me too. I remember freaking out in the parking lot when I dropped him off on his first day. He had no trouble at all, not a single tear, except from me! He has blown me away with how much he has learned and accomplished this year, and I couldn't be more proud.
So as if you couldn't tell...I'm kind of emotional. I found myself staring at Tyler - who was elbow deep in a peanut butter smeared bagel - this morning, and I was choking back tears. (Have I mentioned that he's sleeping all night? Do you have any idea how glorious this is? I have waited FOUR YEARS to be able to get a good night's sleep. He's been sleeping all night for the past two weeks, and it has been nothing short of heavenly.)
So I'm looking at Tyler, and his hair is completely out of control. Most days I don't even bother to brush it because it goes right back to being unruly. Mike refuses to let me have it cut, because it's curly and he loves it long. I secretly love it too, because he's my baby, and I feel like if I cut his hair off it will be even more apparent that he is no longer, in fact, a baby. He's two. My baby is two. It's not like he just turned two, his (and Cody's) birthday was in April. This morning, however, it hit me like a ton of bricks.
They are growing up.
This leads me to only one irrational conclusion.
I want to have another baby.
Honey, if you're reading this...call me when you come back to consciousness :)