And then.

And then today was a good day. It seems that when I get on here and explode with frustration about the way things are going with Elias, we suddenly have good days. And today--well, this morning--was good.

Playing outside in the cooler weather, time in the garden, time in the kitchen. A welcome break from what seems like our everyday chaos.

And at the heart of the issue-----

My baby boy Elias is not my baby anymore. He is turning into a Kid, with scuffed up knees and an opinion about everything. Skinny legs curled up on his booster, reaching an equally skinny arm out to my plate for more roasted zucchini or watermelon, noodles plastered on his bare chest from an unsteady fork. A daydreamer who puts a bucket full of rocks over his shoulder, waves, and says "bye-bye", like Daddy with his lunch box every morning. Boisterous at home, oppositional, and then polite-- sweet, even shy in front of others sometimes. A quivering lower lip when he's dropped off at the church childcare. I see my baby the most then, in that lip. In the teary blue eyes that are so like mine. In his wanting to be held, either to see more clearly, but mostly to be close, to feel safe. He's so long now that I can't quite hold him as carelessly.

Our babies are not our babies for long. This is a truth I know with my head but not my heart.