Sunday night sorrow

Sunday night was a hard one for me.

After Mr. B came waltzing into the bathroom one morning (apparently after climbing out of his crib) I came to the realization that it was indeed time for "the big boy bed".

I have been prepared for this moment for months. Or at least prepared in the material sense.

I had the bed.

I had the sheets.

I had the comforter.

I had the pillows.

We were set, or so I thought.

What I didn't have was the right mindset. Yes folks, I have become "one of those mothers."

As I began to unscrew and take apart his baby bed I realized that THIS time I wouldn't be putting it back up. The era of our life that included babies, bottles, pacifiers, cribs and carriers had came to an end.

There are some good things about my children growing up.....but at that moment, sitting on the carpeted floor in the middle of his bedroom, I could not think of one. All I could think of was my children, and more specifically, my baby, no longer being my baby.

Of course, I still call my four year old, Miss L, "my baby", and in my heart they both will always be "my babies", but their growing bodies tell me that they are now anything but.

Each time I watch their daddy pick them up and take them to their beds, my heart is overcome with a sadness and a love that is so strong it is painfully scary. Love....well that one is obvious, but sadness......sometimes that one surprises even me.

Sadness that one day we won't carry them to bed.

Sadness that one day they won't want the kisses and hugs I freely bestow on them.

Sadness that life is unscripted and unknown, and the future we wish for isn't always the future we get.

Sadness that I know they will never understand how much I love them, until they love someone else that much, and that someone else most certainly won't be me.......but their own children.

However, for at least this moment, I will let the sadness drift away and smile because God has given me two of the sweetest gifts.