Calling him my baby started one night after the bath. I would wrap him up in a towel and carry him like a baby. He loved it. I told him that he would always be my baby, no matter how big he got. He smiled and giggled.
He's growing so fast now a days. With every yogurt that he drinks and canned hot dog that he eats, it almost like I can see him growing vertically. His toddler belly is getting smaller and he's outgrown almost all of the 3T clothing. He just started being able to sound out words and identify letters, which makes driving in the car with him so much more interesting. "Mama!" he shout into my right ear, "That sign says 'One Way'. Are you going the right way?" "Mmm hmmm" I would mumble while negotiating traffic. "Are you going the right way?" If I don't answer him immediately he suddenly turns into a three foot tall drill Sargent. "Can you say yes please? I want you to say yes!" "Yes, Zac. We are going the right way. I promise." "Oh, ok, good".
On Wednesday at school he helped a friend in his class who was trying to spell the word 'pig'. As his teacher recounts the story: "Zac just told her flat out, 'P-I-S doesn't spell pig. It spells Pissssss,' I had to tell him that P-I-S did indeed spell piss, but that we shouldn't use the word very often. He helped his friend find the 'g' that she needed."
I love how blunt he is. I have no idea, of course, where he gets that from. Now if I can just assure myself that I'm not forever ruining his concept of himself in relation to women, I'd be great. I don't really want him to grow up and be a big baby, you know? For now, though, I'm content for him to be my baby.
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