It just hit me that my son is no longer a toddler and is now a preschooler.

PRESCHOOLER.

And he doesn’t toddle anymore. He doesn’t even walk. He RUNS. EVERYWHERE. And let me tell you, this kid is fast. He’s growing more and more into a little boy. A big kid.

I’m not ready for this.

See, we often get those catalogs in the mail that are filled with pictures of kids’ toys. One arrived in the mail the other day. I like to flip through them and see what’s out there. I was thumbing through the toddler section and became slightly dismayed to see that Nathan wouldn’t be interested in most of those toys. I turned the page and GOLDMINE! It was filled with all kinds of toys Nathan would find intriguing. And then I looked up at the top of the page and saw the glaring words “PRESCHOOLERS AGES 3-4.”

Preschooler.

The word tastes funny in my mouth. It seems so… old… somehow. So grown-up and yet not. A contradiction. I have a preschooler and yet he’s still just a baby. It took me a while to get used to calling Nathan a toddler rather than an infant. And just when I became accustomed to that, he morphed into a preschooler right in front of me.

Watching your kid grow is a funny thing. I find myself becoming emotional over things like the thought of getting his first hair cut (It took him over two years to grow his hair; he was completely bald up until a few months ago. And now he has a mop on his head, and cutting it will be a bittersweet moment indeed.) and every time he goes up a size in shoes. There are so many firsts, so many changes, and it all happens so quickly. I just want to press a pause button and breathe him in before he grows any more…

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