This may not be news to anyone else, but I was suddenly and unexpectedly hit with the realization that Miles is not a baby anymore.
Yesterday, while Miles was napping, a little boy from down the street knocked on our door and asked if Miles could come out and play. I nearly died of cute on the spot, but managed to tell the boy that Miles was asleep, but could come play later.
Today, the boy was back. Before I knew it, he and Miles were upstairs, playing trains and laughing.
As I type this, Miles is playing in our driveway with two of the neighborhood kids. They've created some sort of game that involves foam swords and shields, and a soccer ball. I really don't understand the rules - frankly, I'm not sure there are any - but they are having a blast. Children are randomly wandering in and out of my front door seeking out extra equipment as the game becomes more complex.
Truth be told, I love that our house is the destination for the neighborhood kids. It's what I always hoped for. I'm just having a hard time with the fact that Miles is old enough for this already. Somehow, overnight, my baby has become a big kid.
I love it. And I hate it.