Apparently, four days is enough time for a baby to transform into a full-blown KID.

When I left for San Diego last Wednesday, Conal was (in my mind, at least) still a baby. A crawling, babbling, sweet little baby. When I returned Sunday evening, he was like a different person. First, he barely noticed that I was back. Granted, the airport was bustling and Conal likes to take it all in. But, what? He didn’t want to see his mom? Someone walking down the hall behind his mom was more interesting than his very own mom? The Skycaps were more worthy of smiles than his mom? I guess so.

Then there was the hair. Darker and longer. Really, no lie. And the height — he grew. I swear! He’s taller than when I left. He’s also now taking steps. Well, sorta. He can take a step. He’s not walking, although I was afraid he would start while I was away. But, he does take a step here and there. And now he points. Where he used to just flail his arms in the general direction of something that he wanted, now he points with only his index finger. And he does it all the time.

I think that the root of all of his grown-up-ness, though, was his guest appearance at the big Pre-Prom Photo Shoot.

Now, thanks to the attention of the divinely attired Aunt Claire and all of her friends, Conal thinks he’s a big kid and a bit of a star. A haggard mom returning from a few days away just doesn’t cut it. He wants gowns! Tuxes! Limos! Lights! Cameras! Action! All I had to offer were some kisses and a stuffed Shamu. Both were dismissed. By Conal the Kid. No longer a baby.

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