Having a baby is extreme happiness, pride, and love. Having a baby is also extreme sadness.
Lately, as our Rafa has been growing… and I mean really growing (she’s almost 4 months fitting perfectly into 6 month cloths and into some 12-18 month onesies?!?!?!) I sometimes feel this sadness like she’s already getting away from me. She’s already slipping through my fingers and getting older.
There are moments when I am excited about her being able to talk and walk (and sleep on her own – for sure!!) but sometimes I look at her looking at me, allowing me to give her a bazillion and one kisses and I think, when this kid is in middle school she’s gonna wanna kick my ass. There’s no way I’ll be able to hold her close and kiss her entire face as she opens her mouth wide and laughs and coos. And at some point, although my back is in shambles from her weighty babiness and my patience can run thin, at some point, she won’t need me to rock her to sleep anymore and when I sing her The Beatles song “I Will” that always puts her to sleep she might utter the dreaded words, “Mom… I’m too old for that.”
I have been taught well. By a mother who constantly reinforces that children don’t belong to their parents. They are lent to them by God and while it is a parent’s job to do the best they can in raising them, kids will become their own people and grow into a part of the world that you have prepared them for.
I know this. I know it will happen. I just don’t want it to happen to me.