I used to have a theory that the optimum age of cuteness for kids is between 2 to 4 years old. Ever notice that 3-year-olds get away with anything?
They do the boogie in nothing but their underwear? Maxed out cuteness.
Smear food all over their face and hair and furniture? Gross yet adorable.
Make politically incorrect observations about people? Hilarious.
Shred important work documents and try to eat them? Distressing but still cute.
Sure, they’re compulsive and prone to dramatic outbursts but their level of cuteness makes up for it. In fact, if I had a choice, I’d want the kids to remain toddlers forever. But because I still haven’t managed to invent the pill to make them stop growing, I have 2 kids who are rapidly outgrowing the cute and innocent toddler phase.
Truett has been telling me that he wants to be 10 years old like a big boy while I’m trying to hold on to his babyness for as long as I can. Ok who am I kidding, this kid has no more babyness to hold on to.
He’s crossed over into big boy territory sometime in the last year while I wasn’t looking and a part of me has been mourning that a little bit.
But then last night right around bedtime, I was getting Finn ready for bed when Truett came over to kiss him goodnight. What usually took 3 seconds somehow turned into an unexpected 30-minute conversation, just me and him. We talked about nothing or everything, depending on how you look at it. It wasn’t a life-changing conversation and I doubt either of us will remember it several years down the road but for the first time, I felt like I was having a proper conversation with my kid, one I really enjoyed. I didn’t have to consciously talk at his level or feel compelled to teach him something.
I realized that the kids are changing almost on a daily basis and at every stage, there’s a new discovery to be made and more fun to be had. I’ve got to embrace the change and enjoy the ride, whatever it brings.
Suddenly, cute seems overrated. I’m totally going to enjoy having a big boy.