Over the weekend, Miles and I were looking at some pictures from just after he was born. “Who’s that?” I’d ask, showing him a photo of a tiny newborn curled up in a bassinet. “Baby Miles,” he’d reply.
The most striking thing about the contrast between then and now is just how much Miles has grown since then. It was only two years ago, and yet it’s already hard to believe that he was ever that tiny.
I bring this up because Miles has, as of this weekend, reached this somehow perfect length to ensure that he kicks me in the nuts every single time I’m carrying him. It first happened at his birthday party. I was carrying him, my right arm slung under his butt, and he excitedly kicked around, landing a boot kick straight into my groin. This happened again about an hour later.
It happened again this morning as I was dropping him off at daycare, and let me tell you, I had to do everything in my power to not wince and lose my cool in front of that room full of 2-4 year olds.
Watching your child grow from the size of a bean into a full-grown adult has got to be one of the most dizzying, mind-blowing parts of parenthood. We never want to see our children grow up too fast (probably because of the implications of the speed of our own aging), but right now, I’m going to need Miles to grow another couple inches. And fast.