Shop the fall collection ➔

Ooh, my youngest.

He is still a baby.

Isn’t he?

I mean, he might be seven now, but in my head and my heart he is still a baby.

He’s gotten to grow up slower than his brothers. But somehow, it seems, that he has also had to grow up faster.

He learned to make his own sandwich entirely too young. And was riding a bike at three—he knew that was the only way to keep up with the rest of us.

While my oldest had all my attention as a child, this sweet youngest kid has had my split attention.

His life has been one of hand-me-downs, missed baby books, and finally making the family pictures hung on the wall entirely too late.

Instead of watching Mickey Mouse or Paw Patrol, he was jumping straight in to The Sandlot and Star Wars.

His naps have always been interrupted, his bedtimes have been neglected, he’s spent hours watching baseball games and listening to screechy instrument practice.

His schedule has revolved around his siblings. For his whole life.

He has had to grow up faster.

But oh, they say youngest kids are spoiled.

And that couldn’t be more true.

RELATED: There’s Just Something About That Last Baby

This sweet youngest, oh he is spoiled.

He’s cute and he knows it. He is loved and he knows it . . . and he knows how to play that game.

But I also think youngest kids are spoiled because their mommas know.

Their momma knows the lasts are real this time around.

That last time to see a milk coma smile is truly the last. So we cling to it.

“Rock me, Momma,” could be the last time we hear that phrase from one of our babies. So we rock them longer.

We want the snuggles to last longer, we want to keep feeling like they need us, for our hugs and kisses to still help their hurts, and to keep them happy by loving them so hard.

RELATED: You’re My Last Baby So I’ll Savor You a Little More

And so we continue pouring the cup of milk and tying those shoes or letting them in our bed and kissing those sweet cheeks.

Just one more time.

Because soon, that time will be gone, and when it’s gone with the youngest, it’s gone forever.

Oh yes, I know why youngest children might be spoiled.

It’s because their mommas are holding on tight to all the “lasts” they know they will never experience again.

And it’s also because their mommas know that in some ways these babies have had to grow up a lot faster than their siblings, so spoiling them a little is one way we can make up for it.

And I, for one, don’t regret one bit of spoiling that I know I’ll do for this last baby of mine.

I feel like he deserves it.

And I think my heart may need it, too.

Originally published on My House Full of Boys

Ashley Bufe

Ashley Bufe is a Jesus lovin' wife and momma of 4 energetic boys. She blogs at www.myhousefullofboys.com in hopes that she can uplift and inspire other mommas to let them know that they are special and chosen by God to be momma. And that they are doing a great job! Be sure to find her on Facebook and Instagram.  

You’ll Always Be My Baby

In: Motherhood
Mother and young son

There’s something to be said about your youngest. You know he’s your last. Your last diaper change. Your last bottle. Your last rock-to-sleep. He’s your last one to learn to use his Rs correctly (excuse me while I sob). The last one to ask for snuggles just because. RELATED: There’s Just Something About That Last Baby The last to wake up happy and bubbly at 6 a.m. ready to start his day . . . instead of throwing a pillow over his head and yelling at you to get out. My baby is four-and-a-half. He’s still not QUITE transitioned to...

Keep Reading

I’ll Always Long To Hold You Once Again

In: Motherhood
Mother and son walking on beach, color photo

 If I could hold you once again . . .  Just for one more minute, the way you are now. Right before the now I lay me down to sleep prayers, head nestled between my shoulder and chin. If I could hold you just once more and tell you it will be all right when something has given you a scare. RELATED: Lord, Please Don’t Let Me Forget Could I hold you a little longer while you giggle as cars drive by and we count them one by one sitting together outside? You see, I want to remember holding you...

Keep Reading

To My Last-Born Son As We Begin the Final Firsts

In: Kids, Motherhood
To My Last Baby As We Begin the Final Firsts

I held you tonight—well, I tried. You’re 25 pounds of smushy love. My arms can’t cradle your body like they could just a few months ago. No longer my tiny baby, but a growing toddler who looks just like his daddy. You’re growing so fast. No one had to tell me how quickly this year would fly, I already knew. That’s the gift and the pain of being the last. I treasure it all just a little bit more, because I know the heartache that lies ahead when the final firsts are over. Please don’t take my sadness as grief....

Keep Reading