Biology is Destined to Tear Us Part

Once again I have been reminded of how precious time is and I’m getting all weepy (read: WARNING this is a sentimental post).  These past few weeks there has been a momentary shift in my toddler’s never ending struggle for independence; she has wanted to cuddle at bedtime! I say struggle for independence because she’s not quite there yet. It’s frustrating for both of us, but as a mother, part of me wants to see her grasp new concepts and overcome physical boundaries but I also can’t help but be grateful for every misstep. Every time she can’t quite get her shoes on, every time she needs me to reach something means that I still have more time left.

I can see it coming all too soon on the distant horizon, my child growing up. The physicality of the situation got real a few weeks ago. Like I mentioned, Emma has grown clingy at nighttime. At first I found it to be yet another challenge in my parenting marathon but it didn’t take long for me to realize the amazingness of the situation. It was the first time in months…maybe even close to a year…that Emma has let me hold her/ rock her to sleep. Usually her bedtime routine consists of quiet playtime followed by story time followed by a kiss and then the blankie hand off in the crib. She was way too squirmy and rambunctious to hold at all. But lately, she wants to be held and rocked right before being placed into her crib and I love it! The problem is after months of not really noticing, Emma has grown to the point where I can barely hold her and rock her standing up for long periods of time!  My baby is growing up (insert sniffing here.)

It’s like the very fabric of our being is designed to encourage separation and independence. When I can no longer physically hold my child in my arms, I know time is ticking away. Just yesterday she could fit into the crook of my arm and now I am struggling against back pain and leg palpitations to hold up my sweet 30 lb little girl as her arms lovingly grasp around my neck. Her legs like tree trunks, swing toward the Earth below, ready to take root, ready to stand on their own. Every inch, every moment of growth takes her farther away from me.

Don't worry, this moment of utter weapery is coming to a close. 7 lbs, 30 lbs, or 100 lbs and 5 feet tall, it doesn't matter, she will always be my baby.