When Mallory was a baby I waited (almost impatiently at times) for her to hit her milestones. I watched her learn how to roll over and was eager to help her get the hang of it. A few months later, I put the things she was most interested in, just out of reach so she was tempted and worked on her crawling. When she showed the slightest interest in walking Brent and I played with her almost every night trying to get her to walk in between us. Her milestones, I anticipated and eagerly awaited, watching them and watching her grow up.
I am sure you know what I am going to say next…
Mikayla’s milestones are met with cheers and smiles but they are also welcomed with a surge of something that pulses through me. I can’t put my finger on it. It is not sadness. It is not remorse knowing that she is our last baby. It’s just something… I am sure by her first birthday I will have a name for this feeling.
She is getting more mobile as she moves through each day. She rolls, she scoots and she gets her little teeny butt up in the air and wiggles it around. I have never wanted the days to move more slowly and the attempt at crawling to happen, maybe tomorrow instead of today. I am not saying I’m going to hogtie her to the crib and not let her march on. It is just incredibly bitter sweet to watch the milestones happen, seemingly so quickly, knowing that this is it. The world doesn’t slow down just because I want it to; just because I beg it to.
So today she wiggles and turns and scoots. Her eyes aren’t set on speed or a final destination just yet, and this, I am ok with.
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