Twenty Days

Twenty days are left until my son's second birthday.
I counted them.
Twenty days before he 'hits the terrible twos' that I swear he's been in since he turned one.
Twenty days before I can officially stop counting his age in months, which Daddy hates when I do anyway.
Twenty days before he turns the age he calls himself now. (We're practicing for when people ask him how old he is.)
In twenty days, it will have been two years and one day since I went into labor. It will be two years since the doctor placed him in Daddy's arms and Daddy sat in the chair across the room instead of bringing him to me. It will be two years since we heard that little tiny cry and let out the breath we had been holding for 38 weeks. One year and 363 days since we've had him home.
A million bruises and scrapes and cuts have passed, teeth have cut, colds and eczema, slimy snotty noses, smiles, tears...

He's growing up too fast. Time; please slow down so that I may relish in this just a little longer. My baby is growing out of babyhood.

I swear when I hear him say "Amo Mami" (I love you Mommy) I want to grab him and sob into his neck and tell him to stop growing. When I hear him say anything that isn't Chinese morse code I stop and say to myself Holy shit, I understood that. and I have to remember that there is a little boy waiting for his car, or his milk, or who wants to hold my hand and lead me to whatever he just discovered...
*SIGH*
To do list today:
Make time stop.