My difficult, complex, complicated (wait...all those mean the same...see what I'm dealing with), and BRILLIANT son - turned ten two weeks ago. I may not be able to carry Truman on my hip but I can still fit him comfortably on my lap. He's still my baby. Babies still call mom "Mommy" at the end of "I love you". They walk around with shoelaces untied. They still cry in your arms. And at night, they kiss you on the lips and want 3 second hugs in which he always counts out loud...1, 2, 3. He's very precise.