The impending end of the school-year and another page in the calendar turning over causes a little mommy-sentimental moment to bubble to the surface.

When my girls were infants, I wished they would just sleep through the night in their own crib, and not need to be rocked.  And rocked.  And rocked.  Now my cold, empty arms just miss that tiny, sweet weight in them (yet my slept-through-the-night self rejoices!)  This has also turned me into an unapologetic baby hog, snuggling any baby who's mother will allow it.

During that first year, we loved the new words that kept coming and coming, and now we have those days where it's like "Can you just be quiet already!?"  All too soon, I'll have daughters who gab only to friends behind closed doors, and I'll miss those heavily-detailed recounts of every moment of recess.

Even the naps.  This has always been a double-edged sword in our home.  They need to sleep.  I got to nap too.  It was the best part of my day where we got to be home and quiet and I couldn't run the vacuum for fear of waking them.  Truth time:  that was all a lie.  My girls have always slept like the dead if they were tired enough.  I could vacuum their pillows during nap time and I doubt they'd notice.

I painfully, and regretfully, admit that I have wished these little moments away.

Avery had a spell recently when she'd only nap with me.  If you follow me on Instagram (and you should!) you'd see a string of fly-catcher snaps with green paci dangling from her lips.  I'm sure she'll love those later.  Anyway...  She would stall and make noise for 30, 40, 90 minutes.  Picking my battles, I would let her cuddle on my chest and within mere minutes, she'd be snoozing away.   We could lay like that for hours - housework be damned.  And, because noise was not an issue, I still got to watch Bravo and The Food Network!

That time together was amazing.  I'd kiss her little head.  Take in deep breaths of her hair, smelling of a mix of fruit snacks, dirt and play dough.  Using my fingers to trace of ears and cheeks, willing myself to remember each little line - storing those gems for later moments to find peace when I wanted to throw myself from the roof.

Then, she stopped.  It came without warning, and I didn't even realize it happened until it was too late to go back.  No more kissed head.  No more hair sniffing.  No more face-drawing memory exercises while she dreamed and drooled.  I blinked and it was gone.

the last time
But rather than wallow in my loss, I will find some joy.  Thank goodness I am addicted to social media and have this blog.  I have a place to capture tiny memories that might not ever make the "A" roll in her wedding slide show, but they will always make me smile.

Especially on those "jump off the roof" days, am I right?!

I will make an effort to celebrate the little memories and not worry so much about the bigs.

1 comment:

Shann Eva said...

I'm right there with you. My babies are now 3, and I wished away too much of when they were tiny babies. I miss breastfeeding, and laying on chests, and first words. I do NOT miss being in a daze from lack of sleep. I need to stop rushing them thru every stage, though.

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