My Big, Big Boy

At today's 18-month check up:

Weight: 30 lbs.
Height: 34 inches.

Wow. His height is (literally) off the chart for his age. The doctor said that as far as his physical development goes (walking, running, etc., etc.,) he is on par with most 2-year-olds. And it's true. He's so capable, and dexterous. He wants to do everything himself now. He can get in and out of his car seat by himself. He runs from me, to get me to play "chase" with him. He is a pro at climbing stairs. He "helps" to dress himself. We're even starting to use the potty (sometimes--we're introducing the concept--but we're not in full-time potty training mode yet). He wants to (and can) sit in a regular chair at the table. He wants to feed himself with the spoon and fork (and can, as long as Mom is okay with the mess). He's just such a Big Boy. And while my heart bursts with pride at how capable, handsome, and smart he is, there is a voice inside me screaming, "don't grow up so fast! Please stay my Baby Boy a little while longer!"