I awoke this morning to a chorus of happy sounds coming from Taylor's room across the hall. When I peered at her over the edge of the crib and chirped a 'good morning' to her she wiggled and made that adorable 'heeee heee' noise. You know the one ~ kind of a laugh through her crinkled up nose. Grinning a gummy grin. I took her to the living room where her daddy waited with a morning bottle, kissed her sweet head and handed my baby to him, shuffling off to get a steaming cup of my morning elixir to clear the cobwebs from my head.
When I walked back into the living room, not ten minutes later, my baby was gone.
In her place, on her daddy's lap, sat a little girl. An adorable little girl sitting upright and swinging a leg as she held her bottle (occasionally removing the bottle to grin and 'heee heee' at me). A Little girl wearing a sleeper her mommy bought when she was still a baby, one her mommy marveled over as it was so very long. Her daddy even joked she'd be in kindergarten before she'd ever fit that thing.
My eyes stung and watered. How is it that this is happening so fast? How can it be that she's too big to be MY chest monkey anymore? Sure, she'll still nap on daddy's chest, his is much brouader, but she will only fuss on mine, trying to find a comfortable spot as there's not enough room for her now. And how short sighted of me to forget to live "IN" the moment with her, so that I could remember, clearly, the last time we did nap like that together. Too much. Too soon. Too fast.
She's our only. There won't be other babies. I must remember to pay closer attention. To cherish each moment as though it might be the last. To live in the here and now with her. Instead of running through lists for work and home in my head as I feed her the bed time bottle, I must stop and just be, marvel over her as I watch her drift to the edge of sleep, note how her limbs release the day as her weight shifts from alert to drowsy. There will never be enough time. It is up to me to ensure I value what we have.
She then pulls the bottle from her mouth and waves it as she tells me of her dreams.... 'ahhh da da da da deeeee ba ba ba pffffffftt bla bla ba da da'. We all laugh and mine feels just a little bittersweet.
~Kathy (K8200)
I have tears in my eyes as I write this...
My darling little boy...you're not a baby anymore. You're becoming more like your own person with each passing day, and it saddens me to know that someday you won't need me as much as I need you! The love I have for you is utterly overwhelming. You truly are my heart...
...it's so hard to put my feelings for my son into words. My heart knows how to explain it, yet my fingers don't.
~ Marian (Owensmommy74)
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Kitchen Dancing
The time? Midnight.
My gown? A fuzzy robe.
The music? A quiet radio.
The lighting? Dim glow of the digital clock.
My partner? A little bald man, three months old.
We swing and sway in each other's arms as the night ticks by, oblivious to the rest of the world. My restless partner melts into my chest and we become one... again. Tomight I dream of a night on the town. Someday, my dreams will be of kitchen dancing.
~posted by Lisa (mommy22g1b) borrowed from the Feb 01 Playgroup