Do you ever ask whose kid is this person?

No? Because I do. Lately, whenever I am driving and my son is in his seemingly small carseat, I look from the mirror and wonder whose kid is this person seated in the back seat of my car?

Sometimes I catch a glimpse of him while sleeping all long limbs like his dad’s and I feel a disconnect. Somehow it feels foreign to have a big kid like him when I am used to cuddling someone who still has baby fats with a smaller frame.

When did he become so big, is my forever question. It is here. The independence we have always wanted for him just came and has smacked us right in the face.

I miss my baby.

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