The other night I was getting Caroline ready for bed. I rubbed her down with lotion and then put a diaper on her. For just a moment, I looked at her little pot belly hanging out of that diaper and smelled that sweet lavender lotion that I’ve been putting on her since she was born, and I saw my baby again.
At some point in the last year, the baby went away and was replaced by a delightful little girl with pigtails and promise. All of a sudden her pants were all too short, none of her shoes fit anymore and her body lost most of its baby fat.
She still cuddles with me, but usually just first thing in the morning and right before bed at night. The rest of the day is filled with too much wonder and adventure to stop to sit with Mama. There are imaginary friends to play with, stories to make up, and hide and seek games to play.
I adore this age. When she was a baby, I wondered all the time what she wanted or what she was thinking, and now I know. She doesn’t hesitate to let me know when something displeases her or when I’m not being fair (how do they learn that phrase so early?). I love the conversations we have and nothing makes me happier than when I pick her up from school and she tells me all about her day. I am in constant wonder at how her little mind works and amazed at all the things she knows.
But every now and then, I’ll stop and look at the baby pictures hanging in the hallway and I’d give more than a million dollars to hold that little baby again, to smell that little head and feel her nestled on my chest. So many of the times that I actually had those moments were spent wishing them away, praying that she’d just go to sleep and now I wish I could have a few of them back.
I used to always sing her a little made up song and I’d say “just stay little, just stay little, just stay little, little, little” and while yes, she’s still little, she’s getting bigger every day.
She always tells me that Mimi says “she’ll be sad when she can’t pick me up anymore” and I tell her so will Mama. That’s why even though she doesn’t quite fit with me in the rocking chair like she used to, I still rock her every night before bed. We read stories, say our prayers and then she lays her head on my chest with her legs scrunched up on either side and we rock. At those moments, it’s the best of both worlds when I can listen to the emerging personality and dreams of my little girl while I hold her like my baby.