Tankoo! Uvoo!

My boy gets bigger and bigger every day.  He's walking to and from the car when we go to the babysitter's house in the mornings and come home midday.  He insists upon carrying his own lunch bag.  And sweetest of all, when you hand him a toy or a snack he responds with:  Tankoo!  He doesn't realize one tankoo can cover the entire transaction, so I get a separate tankoo for each and every goldfish cracker or puzzle piece.  I love the tankoos.

Then, just this weekend, he began to say:  Bye!  Uvoo!  Again, not fully understanding that bye is typically reserved for when you are actually leaving, he prefers to throw a random bye! uvoo! into the conversation every so often, just to keep me on my toes.  I love the uvoos too.  (Uv the uvoos?)

No matter how many times I've witnessed it professionally:  watched as a pregnant mother grows bigger and bigger, disappears and then returns with a tiny newborn who in turn grows bigger and bigger until he too, disappears from my program and enters preschool, the lowest rung of the Pre-K-12 ladder that he will continue to climb, growing bigger and bigger as the years fly by in a blur, no matter how many times I watched it happen to other families:  I wasn't ready.

I'm not ready.

And I know I never will be.  All I can do is stand and watch as he walks away, the bittersweet thump of my heart in my chest.  It's starting already, and it will never stop as long as we are both here on this earth.  I watch the back of that little being who began as a seed inside my body and is now beginning that long, slow walk away from me, and I whisper:  Bye.  Thank you.  Love you.