You Can Squidge Me Forever, Mommy

This kid. Turning four tomorrow, and he is already such a big kid. That realization hits me sometimes, quickly, intensely, and unexpectedly. Like when I hear rustling in the kitchen at 6AM and I discover Henry in the freezer, pulling out the waffles. “I’m just getting breakfast ready,” he says. Or when he comes out of his room in the morning in a new pair of pajamas and says, “My bed got wet last night,” and we realize he took off his pajamas, put them in the hamper, got a new pair from the closet and put them on, and then went back to bed. All by himself. In the dark. In the middle of the night. Or like the other night when was helping him brush his teeth before bed. And there was nothing in particular that triggered it, but I just suddenly realized that he was getting so big. I gave him a big hug and a dozen kisses.

“What are you doing, Mom?” he asked through fits of giggles. And I said, “I just love you so much, sometimes I have to hug you and squidge you. You’re getting so big!” “But you can squidge me forever, Mom. Even when I’m a grown up and I’m taller than you, you can stand on your tiptoes and squidge me.”

Heart. Melted.

And now I’ve quoted him and written it down to live for all eternity in cyber space so that when he does grow taller than me and he starts to squirm away from my hugs and kisses, I can remind him, “You told me I could squidge you forever.”

The days are long, but the years are short.

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