Boogers on the Wall

To the women who keep telling me that the time raising my kids will fly by – you need to stop.

I know that you mean well. You’ve been there. Your kids are raised and you have seen firsthand how fast they grow.

I don’t blame you for saying these things to me. I am sure I will say them to young moms once my kids are raised. But the thing is, you aren’t telling me anything that I don’t already know.

When you tell me to savor each moment, to let them be little and to enjoy each stage, know that I already am.

My tiny baby princess girl turns one next week and I’m kind of freaking out. How can nine sickly, painful, anxious months in the womb last so long but the 12 months following can flash by in the blink of an eye?

It’s not fair, it’s unexplainable and yet it’s happening.

She’s my baby and she’ll be one whether I like it or not – whether I’ve savored each stage or not.

But thank heavens I have.

I have cuddled her close and held her more than I should have – which may explain why she’s a week from turning one and just barely starting to crawl.

I have kissed her cheeks at least 50 times a day.

I have held her for hours at a time while she’s napped and I have caught up on my latest book club book. I have lied next to her on my bed while we both have rested.

I have taken a picture of her every single day of her life.

I have painted her cute baby toenails and polished her fingernails. I have combed her beautiful blonde hair and styled it in as many baby pig tail/pony tail designs I can think of – yesterday was her first baby braid!

She has by far been treated like a baby for the longest out of all my kids.

She stayed sleeping next to my bed in a bassinet until she was at least eight months. I still nurse her every three hours (mainly because she won’t eat real food all that well yet). And although she’s five days from turning one, she shows no sign of trying to stand let alone walk.

I’m grateful for her willingness to oblige me. For not trying to rush out of her baby stage either. We have a mutual understanding – I won’t rush her and she won’t race away from being my baby.

But it’s happening. And neither of us can avoid it. I’m afraid if I blink five times she’ll be married with a baby of her own. It’s coming and I can’t stop it.

Even though I have filled this year with cuddles, story times and late night snuggle feedings, it’s still flown by. Even though I have thoroughly enjoyed having my pink little baby bundle, the time has still betrayed me.

Don’t get me wrong, I want her to grow and develop and I can’t wait to see what type of woman she becomes.

That doesn’t mean I’m not going to cry next week when we put her first birthday cake in front of her and try to get her to smash into it. I’ll probably cheer, laugh and then cry. Because I know that means that my baby is not going to be a baby much longer.

And when she’s no longer a baby I’ll be the one telling people to enjoy the time they have with their little ones. Because, like I said earlier, I thank heavens that I did.