My mother often calls David her “Hobbit” because of his huge mop of curly hair, and because when he was really little he had disproportionately big feet. About twice a year, I take the clippers and give David a “shearing”…I have tried, and indeed tried today, to use the scissors to cut his hair rather than shave it all off, but I only got about one third of it done after more than half an hour, so the poor boy got buzzed.
Then I eyed his little brother…I had given Matthew’s bangs a trim last night, and the blunt, straight style looked strange and very “done at home” (in the worst possible way), so I plopped him up on the stool to shear my second little lamb. Now I have no Hobbit, and most lamentable of all, no sweet baby boy. As he ran around the house chasing the others in his jeans and sweater, sporting his new “big boy” haircut, the full realization that toddlerhood has arrived hit me so hard I almost caught my breath. Thankfully, as I scooped him up to carry him to his bed for naptime, he lay his head against me and clung to me, as if he knew that I needed some comfort from my “baby.” He has been the sweetest, dearest little baby that any of us in this family have ever known…all three of his siblings admit it. I anticipate the future with great joy and excitement, wondering what kind of people each one of my little lambs will become.