Moment. Of. Panic.

I am not even going to lie when I say that Thaddeus will be going to preschool in T-minus 8 hours, and I am sort of freaking out.

Where in the hell did my baby go?

It's like he completely vanished out of thin air, and all of a sudden I have this 3-foot-something walking around my house, singing songs, calling me "mom" instead of "mommy," begging for the soda that he's never going to get, and saying things like, "I don't know," when I ask him what he's doing and he knows he's doing something wrong.

I so badly want to go back to those days when he laid on my chest all day and all night, until Tom practically forced him away from me, insisting that I was going to give our child some sort of complex.

I miss the smell of his little baby head and the sounds he used to make when he drank an entire 4 ounces of milk. 

I miss the days when we thought he was a total pig because he drank 4 ounces of milk.

I miss the sounds of the Rainforest Jumperoo and laying on the ground with him while he played with squishy toys and I studied for school.

I miss the days when he got more solid food on his face and his clothes than he did in his mouth.

I miss the days of waking up to hear him on the baby monitor, cooing at each and every one of his stuffed animals.

I can't even imagine how hard Kindergarten is going to be, if preschool is having this kind of effect on my emotional state.

I just want my monkey to stay little forever.

Is that too much to ask?