Where has my sweet little baby gone?
And who is this boy?
A few snips of the hairdresser's scissors, and T is transformed. In the flesh he looks even more different than in these pictures.
T will soon be 18 months old and I have to remember that he is not a baby anymore. He walks, virtually runs, climbs; he understands so much and is beginning to talk now too; he can do puzzles, sort shapes and build towers.
But more than any of these milestones, both for T and for K, the one moment when I felt that babyhood had been left behind was this. The first haircut. It's wonderful to see the emergence of a real little boy, to get a glimpse of the future but, at the same time, I'm reminded that we can never go back. The hair will grow again, but the baby is gone forever.