Absolutely, I joyfully carry my little one around all the time.
Sometimes he politely asks, “Can you pick me up, please?” Other times, he’s a bit more demanding, whining, “Carry me!” as he halts right in front of me, causing me to almost trip over him. Occasionally, he simply raises his arms toward me in silence. And then there are moments when it’s me initiating the request, asking if he’s tired or if he wants to be held. Often, I just scoop him up, feeling his warm body snuggled against mine, his little legs resting on my side and his head on my shoulder.
Meet Leo
Meet my son, Leo. He’s 3 1/2 years old, and I carry him everywhere. Many people say I should let him walk. I can feel the stares and hear their silent judgments: “Isn’t he a bit too big to be carried?” or “Why not just use a stroller?” However, I have my reasons for not wanting a stroller, and I cherish the moments I spend carrying Leo. During our recent vacation, I carried him two blocks from Independence Hall to our parking garage and through half of the dinosaur museum. Sure, he may have been tired, but honestly, it was also just because I love those cuddly moments.
My arms still have the strength to lift his small, warm body. He seeks those extra moments of closeness, especially in new or unfamiliar situations. For now, he’s still my little baby—so wonderfully clingy. But soon, he’ll be a curious 4, then a sprinting 5. Before long, like his older brother, he’ll stop asking to be carried. I want to relish these moments while I can because I know that time flies and he will grow up before I know it.
Family Perspectives
Even my partner thinks I should let him walk more. When he sees me shifting Leo from my front to my side, he knows that my 30-pound toddler is becoming a handful. Instead of pushing him to walk, he willingly takes Leo into his arms, inhaling the scent of our youngest child’s hair. When my partner grows tired, Leo hops onto his shoulders. He too enjoys those precious cuddling moments while he can.
He has witnessed our eldest, now 7, transition from a constantly held baby to a toddler who would be carried, and now to a fast-paced little boy. I cherish the rare moments when he still holds my hand. Our middle child, Max, took longer to run freely, but he eventually did, and while he still enjoys holding hands, he no longer craves the closeness of being carried.
Memories of Carrying
I miss that soft, sweet scent of Leo’s head, half-boy and half-baby. I can’t carry Max anymore the way I used to—his cowboy boots now dangle far below my waist, and he’s grown too heavy for me to lift comfortably. Now, I opt for a piggyback or wrap him on my back, which he still enjoys, as it reminds him of the warmth of his baby days. However, he’s outgrown the desire to be held on my hip or front.
Leo, on the other hand, thrives on being carried. He often asks his 7-year-old brother for piggyback rides, and his brother happily complies. As soon as Leo awakens, I lift him from his bed and carry him to the living room to watch his favorite show. I take him to get dressed and seek out his shoes. I seize every chance to pick him up, inhaling the familiar scent of his neck and feeling the soft wisps of his hair brush against my face. I even carry him to the bathroom, where he mostly manages on his own now, except for a little help with wiping.
Comfort in Times of Need
Whenever he cries, I instinctively scoop him up. It’s essential to hold your last child when they’re upset, to feel their warm tears on your neck as you comfort them with gentle shushing sounds.
That day is coming, I know it will sneak up on us. Soon, Leo won’t need to be carried anymore. He’ll eagerly race ahead with his brothers, exploring the world around him. He’ll still hold my hand for a little while longer—just like my older son does now—but I’ll treasure every moment until he doesn’t need that connection either.
However, holding hands can’t compare to the feeling of having my child nestled in my arms, the warmth, the closeness, and the sweet weight of him resting against my shoulder. Each time I carry him reminds me that he is still so close to being my baby. One day, he’ll be a fully grown boy, and while that’s a wonderful milestone, I want to savor this time together. They’ll always be my babies, and as long as I can, I will carry them.
The Fleeting Nature of Time
Time is fleeting, and motherhood is a race against the clock. They say that in the blink of an eye, they’ll grow up. So, I hold my little one close and keep my eyes wide open to cherish every precious moment.
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