Everyone defines 'growing up' differently.

Last night I was rocking my daughter to sleep, silently praying that her cough wouldn't keep her up all night. My son sat next to us, still flipping through the book we just read together. I found myself looking from her to him and back again, and told Caden that he used to be this small. At one time, he was a baby just like his 12-month old sister.

And while I sat sulking, he propped his head up on one hand, much like The Thinker, and said very seriously, "Yeah but now that I'm big I can play football and baseball and soccer ball...and volleyball. Okay volleyball's for girls, but..."

After his giggling subsided, I first explained that boys can play volleyball. And then I found it within myself to tell him that I'm excited for him to play all of those things and to learn all the cool stuff he has to learn. And I honestly am. I just wish he'd stay young and innocent a little longer. I can feel the days being numbered.

On the bright side, at least he's dreaming of playing sports and not of girls....yet.