If any of you pay particularly close attention to my tags and my blurb at the top of the sidebar, you might have noticed that my boys are no longer Sam and Bex. Some of you know (and some of you probably don't know) that those are not their real names. When I started this blog, I had the intention of keeping a certain veil of anonymity over myself. I altered each of our names slightly and planned to refrain from mentioning my business, Myspace, place of residence, or any other telling info. Some of that I will still uphold as planned, but I just couldn't continue with the altered names. My boys are Sawyer and Beckett to me and no matter how I try, I can't call them anything else.

Before Beckett was born we thought we might call him Becks or Beck. Neither name has really seems to suit him quite as well as the full name. DH instead has taken to calling him Beckers, and while it's a pet name that will surely embarrass him in front of his friends in a few years, it's surprisingly fitting. I, on the other hand, call him Chunk a good part of the time. Chunky if I'm being extra cutesy. I'm sure he's going to love it when he starts school. Heh.

Sawyer has always been Sawyer-Man to us. Sometimes Bubba also, but most often, Sawyer-Man. Don't ask me why, because I can't tell you. When I was pregnant with him, I used to sing "Do you know the Sawyer-Man, the Sawyer-Man, the Sawyer-Man" to the tune of The Muffin Man. And then once he was born, I made up a stupid little song to get him to laugh. "Sawyer-Man, he's a big big man, he's a big big big big man." He knows the song well now, and I can sing the first few words and then he will chime in with "MAAAAAAN!"

Today I spent some time going through the massive piles of clothes littered around Beckett's room, and I know everyone says it -- but wow, time flies. Most of his clothes are what I had left over from Sawyer and even though I didn't buy much new, I still unearthed dozens of pieces that he didn't even get to wear before ballooning up to 22 pounds. I folded away onesies and cute overall outfits and some soft fleece sleepers from 'Nese and Papa Sam that still had the tags attached. It was just never cold enough for him to wear them and now they're too small.

And although I say we're done having babies, I can't bring myself to sell or give away any of it. Partly because of the "What if?" voice that plays in the back of my mind, but also because.. well, I'm not really sure why. I never thought I would be attached to their clothes but I guess I am. Before I got pregnant with Beckett, I gave a bunch of Sawyer's clothes to my cousin who had a boy. I wasn't emotionally attached to them and figured we could just buy more when we had another baby. I can't do that this time though. I guess it must be something about these outfits going through two children that makes them that much more special.

I tell everyone all the time that I can't wait for the boys to be older so we can take family vacations, go to baseball games (or in DH's case, coach Little League), and be free of the stresses that come along with diapers and nap time and breastfeeding. But as I laid in bed tonight nursing Beckett after a failed attempt at putting him down awake in his crib, I allowed myself to drink it all in -- his scent, his soft head, his body curled up next to mind, hand stroking my face. And for just a little while, I wanted him to stay like that, perfect in that moment, just a little longer.