My youngest turned 5 Sunday. He’s a whole handful now, but he’s still just the littlest, cutest, snuggliest thing in my mind.

It’s funny to look at him and compare him to how I saw my oldest at 5. Poor Maggie got robbed of the babyhood that Jonah may never grow out of. She was just 20 months old — still in diapers — when the twins were born. And from that moment on, she was a big girl. Sadly, I don’t remember snuggling much with her after that. I don’t think it’s ironic that she still occasionally tries to squeeze into my lap.

Jonah, on the other hand, still reigns over my lap at 5. He  tries to get me to carry his 40-plus-pound self, and refuses to dress himself half the time. But lately I’ve seen glimpses of him growing up.

Yesterday, he completed a complicated Lego creation all by himself, following the directions step by step. He’s starting to grasp the notion of what it means to clean his room and will even comply occasionally. And lately, he’s started showering all by himself.

But I will always see him as my baby. Just like Maggie will always be my big girl.