The Incredible Shrinking Park

We pulled into the parking lot of what used to be our neighborhood park, the one we often walked to twice a day. Directly in front of us was the red fire engine that Elliot always loved to drive. There was the play structure with the side-by-side slides we'd gone down together so many times. In the distance, I saw the largest play structure, the one that Elliot had just grown into before we moved away from the neighborhood last summer.

In my mind, I'd been sort of idealizing this park, wishing we had something similar near our new house. But today, as Elliot excitedly ran toward the fire engine, I had a realization: everything was much smaller than I'd remembered.

I know, of course, that nothing in the park has shrunk. I realize, of course, that Elliot has grown. But, I didn't really realize how much until I saw my big boy in this familiar setting.

He easily reached the fire truck bell I used to have to pick him up to clang. The lone metal slide, seemingly a remnant from the 70s, no longer seemed like a height from which he might inadvertently fall. The play structures all seemed smaller -- and closer together -- than they had in the past. I thought back to how I'd worried so much that he'd run off and get lost, which now seemed fairly impossible...even though he now runs a lot faster than he used to.

It's amazing how much my perspective changed in the 10 months or so since we last visited the park. While I once thought that living by a park was an absolute necessity, I can now see a day when Elliot will be too big for the play structures.

Fortunately, that day is still a few years off.

So Big... Yet, So Little

"Did you get bigger?" I asked my baby, whose face was streaked with dirt from hours playing outside.

"Yes, I did," he confidently replied.

I'm not sure that Elliot really grew in the almost three days I spent away from him while at a weekend writing conference, but it sure seemed like it. He looked bigger. His vocabulary seemed larger. And his imaginary world seemed to have expanded.

When I look at Elliot, all I see is "boy." And I guess that makes sense: he's now closer to four than three.

But, at the same time, he sometimes, seems so little.

Take for example, last night, when he suddenly appeared in our bedroom at 12:30, sniffling and crying. He couldn't quite say what was wrong. I'm still not sure if something scared him, or if something hurt. He would only tell me that he felt "yucky."

All I know is that he wanted to be near me. He wrapped his arms around my neck and snuggled close. Eventually, he acquiesced to going back to his bedroom, where I rocked him and snuggled him before putting him back to sleep. This morning, he was fine...and back to being my big boy.

But, big boy that he is, he still needs his Mommy. And I hope that's always the case.

Preschool Love

"Who did you play with at school today?" I asked Elliot yesterday at the dinner table. "Did you play with..." I named a few of his classmates.

"No, no, no," he answered. "Just...," he replied, naming his favorite friend. She's a cute little thing: blonde hair and glasses. She favors princess dresses, despite the muddy outside play area.

"We built a house," Elliot told me, which was the first sign that this conversation was going to be unusual. (Typically, he doesn't offer up many details about preschool and his usual response to anything related to his time there is, "I really don't know, Mommy.")

I found out that they built the house out of chairs, long pillows and sheets.

"What did you do inside?" I asked, thinking that this is where he'd run out of information.

Boy, was I wrong.

"Come here," he said, leaning sideways from his chair toward me. "We did this."

And he gave me a kiss.

Kissing in the sheet house at preschool? My little Elliot? A strange mixture of shock and jealousy rushed through me. My baby had given his heart to another woman at such a young age. Then I realized how ridiculous that thought was. After all, he's three-and-a-half. This girl is his special friend. And one of the teachers has already told me that she's very "touchy" and likes to frequently kiss and hug Elliot.

"You really like her, don't you," I asked.

"It's not like," he said in a most definitive voice. "I love her."

And so it begins.