Baby Blues, 4 Years Later

Books and experts say that after a woman gives birth, she may go through a period of unexpected bouts of irritability, sadness, crying/weepy moments, restlessness, and anxiety — the baby blues. But it’s been nearly 4 years and I find myself going through a similar band of emotions as Carlo approaches his 4th birthday. And it can’t be PMS because I just finished my period.

I look at my boy as he is sleeping peacefully beside me and wonder to myself, “When did you get so big?” It seriously feels like just yesterday when Charlie drove me to the hospital to give birth to him.

And I want to cry.

I don’t know where time went. Then, in a few months, he’ll be off to preschool and he’ll no longer be mine. I’ll have to share him with other people. And I don’t want to.

I realize that this sounds crazy because Carlo is a person, not a stuffed animal that I can keep and cuddle forevermore. But boy, do I wish I could. Keep him “mine” forevermore, that is.

I wish I could retain the “God-like” status in his little world. You know, when your kid looks at you like you could leap tall buildings, build rocketships, and chase Dementors away just by saying “Boo!”? Carlo still looks at me that way… like I’m the smartest, strongest, best-est person in the world.

But I know that this will all change once school starts. And right now, in my current emotional state, him starting school seems like the beginning of an avalanche, a disaster-waiting-to-happen. All this change and growth is about to snowball and I don’t know if I’m prepared for the effects this will have on the relationship that Carlo and I currently share.

So, the very thought of him going to preschool has me weepy. And irritable. And moody. And it sucks.

Why can’t he stay 3 forever and ever?

And once he starts school, he’ll have friends. Friends! But I’m his best friend right now. And I’m his sweetheart. And crap, he’ll have his own sweetheart someday. Crap. Crap. Crap. I so don’t even want to go there, right now.

I hate that I sound like a lunatic. I hate that I’m whining. I hate that I’m feeling this way. Because Carlo is such a good kid. He’s really a sweetie. And that’s precisely why I’m feeling this way. It’s circular, don’t you see?


No one ever told me when I was going to have a child that raising a kid means little barbs of hurt and pain as he grows up.

Does this get better? Does this feeling go away?

Maybe I should have gotten a dog first before having a child.

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