When My Baby Boy Turned Into a Little Man

I do not know if it was one split second or over a number of sleepless nights, that my little baby boy turned into a little man. Was it one precise activity or numerous ones that turned a baby into a little man? It took three signs to make me aware that my baby boy was a little man and those signs were; letting go of my hand to walk on his own, pushing away of my fingers to feed himself, and speaking the word “no” to the clothes I picked out in the morning for him?
The first sign was when my baby boy let go of my hand and walked away from me on his own power, like a new born fawn getting up on his legs after being born. The fawn’s legs wobbling under the pressure of his weight and not knowing where it was going to go. My baby boy letting go of my hand which was his life line, was like a ship slipping off the tow lines from the tug and adventuring off to find unknown adventures. He was no longer a baby but a little man. He still needed my big strong hand to direct him to safety and hear all his adventures of the day, but not as his legs to carry him over the hurdles of this big land. He was like the ship that was able to let go of the tug but when he came back from the open spaces of the big blue ocean needed the tug again to steer him back to the safety of his home. I was the tug, when he needed me he would let me know. My heart would sink with the realization that he was not a baby any more but turning into a little man but also filled with excitement to see what new and wondrous adventures he would come back with to share with me.
The next sign (that he was growing up) was the first time he brushed my hand away, like a ship bumping into the black worn tires along the dock. The boat can hold itself up in the water but needed the tires to protect it from hurting itself on the wooden dock. He was no longer a baby needing me to feed him or hold his bottle anymore because he could now do it himself. I was still needed to help direct his fork into his