It isn’t the growing that gets me, it’s the loss of the little

It isn’t the big kid voice, with a growing vocabulary and precise pronunciation. It’s the loss of the squeaky voice and mis-spoken words. It’s not realizing how much you’ll miss talking about “rucks” and “tars”. It’s not realizing how much you’ll miss requests for “hamburbers” and “spabhetti”. It’s not knowing the last time you hear it is the last time you’ll hear it.

It isn’t the growing that gets me, it’s the loss of the little. It’s how growing up happens word by word and all at once.

It isn’t the growing in of molars and permanent teeth. It’s the loss of baby teeth and no more toothless grins, and it’s not knowing it’s the last time they’ll leave a tooth under their pillow until it’s the last time they leave a tooth under their pillow.

It isn’t the growing that gets me, it’s the loss of the little. It’s how growing up happens tooth by tooth and all at once.

It isn’t the growing into new found interests in video games, dance and sports. It’s the loss of the innocence it takes to believe in a talking mouse and a monkey’s mischief, and how you don’t know it’s the last time they’ll ask for Curious George at night, until you realize they’ve stopped asking for Curious George at night.

It isn’t the growing that gets me, it’s the loss of the little. It’s how growing up happens interest by interest and all at once.

It isn’t the fact that they can tie their own shoes or button their own coats, it’s the loss of the little toes and little fingers, and it’s not realizing that you are holding a chubby little toddler hand for that last time until you look down and realize that big kid hands have grown where toddler hands once were.

It isn’t the growing that gets me, it’s the loss of the little. It’s how growing up happens by fingers and toes and all at once.

It isn’t the fact that they can reach the cups and pour their own milk, it’s that they no longer fit on your lap and it’s not realizing it’s the last time you’ll carry them to bed until you realize you can no longer carry them to bed.

It isn’t the growing that gets me, it’s the loss of the little. It’s how growing up happens inch by inch and all at once.

It isn’t the growing that gets me, it’s the loss of the little. It’s how growing up happens day by day and all at once.

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