When the Baby Turns 25

I have three terrific sons, but my youngest, my baby, is turning 25 tomorrow.  I don’t understand how that can be.  One day I was looking into his newborn face and falling hopelessly in love with this tiny human.  The next day he is a grown up young man.

Of course there were many stages in between then and now.  There were the terrible twos, which he started at nine months.  There was potty training which you think you are finished with, but guess what?  You are not.  And you didn’t bring a change of clothes or diapers with you, because you thought you were done with all that.  There were the arguments about school, which he didn’t want to attend now matter what.  There were the required hassles about homework, which was right up there with his dislike of school.

There were fights with his older brothers.  There was also a lot of testosterone in my household that I had a difficult time counteracting. 

At every stage, I have wonderful memories also.  There was the time he was in kindergarten and he bought me a little angel at the school Christmas shop.  It is still on display on my dresser.  There were so many shared times for watching movies, or reading to him, or having a picnic.  He loved playing in his sandbox with one of his brothers.  I have lots of pictures and videos of him and his brothers growing up.  When we lived in Philadelphia, we had a snowstorm that left about three feet of snow on the ground.  We were playing in our yard and he sunk down into the snow.  He was about 3 years old.  I was videotaping and watched him go under.  Then he said in his sweet little boy voice, “Mommy.  I fell down.  And I can’t get back up.”  I had to laugh, but of course I went and picked him up out of the snow. 

He was a typical little boy in so many ways.  He loved dinosaurs.  He loved riding his bike.  He loved the power rangers.  He was good and gentle with our pet dogs, cats, and hamsters. 

As he got older, he loved video games and having friends come over.  He still hated school though.  That stayed an issue right up until graduation from high school, which he refused to attend.  I had to be satisfied with a picture of him holding his diploma, sans cap and gown.  I was still so proud of him for reaching that milestone. 

Watching him grow from a helpless infant, to an adorable toddler, to an elementary, then middle school student was amazing.  It wasn’t more amazing than watching the other boys grow up but it was different.  He definitely had some social issues, so when he fell in love with his first girlfriend, it was like he evolved into a new person.  Watching him go to prom and then senior week with a group of friends was emotional for me.  It isn’t always easy to be a mom, especially when your child has “issues”.

Now that little boy is 25.  That is another milestone.  It is a quarter of a century.  I remember being 25.   It was only a couple of years ago.  Time goes by way too fast.  One day he was a baby and I was literally teaching him how to use a spoon to feed himself.  The next day he is a grown man teaching me how to use my phone as a remote control for my television.  He has grown into a handsome, smart, funny, lovable young man.  I love him (and his brothers) to pieces.   He would not be happy with my sharing, so I will just wish him an absolutely wonderful and perfect 25th birthday.  I love you little boy. You will always be my baby.