I’m pretty sure I’ve said this before, but 4.5 years old is my favorite age by far. There’s just something about this age that is sweet and wonderful and perfect and silly. Quinn has turned into the most awesome tiny human, and I absolutely love spending our “Quinn and Mumma” days together.
I’ve really started to make it a point to embrace our time together, and I constantly make mental notes of my favorite warm and fuzzy moments. I want to hold onto the memories of Quinn at this age and remember them the best I can. Even still, during these sweet moments, I can’t help but ask myself whether it’s the last time.
As Quinn gets older, there’s certain things that he’s physically too big for, like riding around on the bottom of the cart at Target. Pretty soon, he won’t fit there anymore.
Same goes for his stroller. He barely fits in it now, but when he asked me to take Murphy for a walk with the stroller this afternoon, I didn’t turn him down. (It was his code for wanting to take a nap on the walk.) I covered Quinn with “Geet” and “Noonie” (his blankets), and he fell right to sleep. Was this the last time?
And playing games. Ok, maybe Quinn will always enjoy playing games (I know Mal and I still do), but he won’t need us to read the rules and set it up. Quinn will need us less and less as the years pass, so it’s hard not to wonder if these moments are truly the last of their kind.
Before Quinn goes to bed at night, we always snuggle on his couch and “talk about our days.” Tonight, we chatted for a little bit, but he was fast asleep within minutes – his head on my chest and his arms draped on either side of me. Being a mom is awesome in so many ways, but these fleeting moments are so bittersweet.
I’m feeling nostalgic, grateful, and full of love as I finish this blog post and head to bed. I know when I’m with Quinn tomorrow, I’ll still wonder whether or not this is the last time, but I also know I’ll cherish and embrace it even more.