Baby-love, SLOW DOWN

My dearest girl,

Yesterday marked a big day in your short but wonderful life. It was your first day of school, all on your own. The first time I’d leave you in the company of strangers. It was terrifying.

On your first day, I had to wake you up. Your dad and I took that as a sign of the next 18 years of our lives.

As we sat and ate breakfast, I really watched you. We sat together, you in your pajamas with your bedhead and your new sneakers, ready for the day. Or at least your cereal. You have gone from a tiny human to a little girl in such a short period of time, how did that happen? I watched you as you took your strawberries from your plate, put them into your cereal and then ate them with your spoon. I also watched as you’d take this huge spoonful of food out and say, “big bite” and then spill half of it down your front. “Oh no” you’d say and then attempt to clean it up with a napkin. When you were done, you picked up your cup of milk, “both hands” you said, while intently drinking your milk as I hovered next to you, as though I could catch it when it falls.

It’s amazing to me how much you’ve changed in such a short period of time. You’re quite the little talker and you’re no longer a baby, even though I still call you that all the time. You say, “here you go” and “thank you.” I love the thank yous, I could listen to you say that all day. Apparently I say, “here you go, baby” quite often because that’s what you say as well. And you almost always say those things in the proper context. I washed an outfit for your soon-to-be sibling the other day and the entire little body suit was smaller than your shirt. I can’t believe you were once that small, I was really thinking there was something wrong with the babies outfit to be so small.

As we sat and talked, I told you about the teachers and the kids in your class and the things you were going to do. I talked about what a big girl you are and how much fun you’d have. When we got there and I went to drop you off, you cried and clung to my neck as though your life depended on it. It was all I could do not to burst into tears on the spot but to tell you that you were going to have a great time and I loved you as I looked pleadingly at the teacher to help remove you from my body. But make no mistake my love, I cried as I got into my car and drove away from that school, I wish I’d had someone to hold on to.

You are still a couple of months from 2, which seems hugely gigantically old to me. As your sibling grows ever larger and takes over my body, I’d like to slow time as it pertains to you, it just goes so fast. I want to capture you at this age, not forget a minute of it. I want to remember you always with your goofy, playful walk as you stomp around the house in your big girl sneakers, your arms out to the sides and your head tilted. I want to remember you as we sit at the table, tilting our heads in opposite directions, with our mouths gaping open and then laughing at one another. I don’t want to forget the times we have sat and you say, “Silly mommy. Silly baby.” over and over.

People don’t tell you what being a parent is all about, they can’t, there aren’t words for it. It is the greatest source of joy (as well as frustration and heartache) one can experience. So thank you, my sweetest girl, for bringing me such happiness and hope for our future, it’s going to go too quickly and I will do my best to be as wonderful for you as you are for me.