Mummy Confession: I’m quite sentimental these days, especially with all the growing up the kids have done lately.
Every day it seems one of them learns something new, or reaches some sort of milestone. My tiny one is pulling up and cruising along everything imaginably stable now (and occasionally an unstable thing or two).
Last night was my babies’ last Sleep in a toddler bed. Last sleep in what was our first cot. She’s big now, but I can still remember those tiny newborn grunts and squishy noises as I struggled through those exhausting first days and months of motherhood. She was so tiny, so new. I could hold her forever.
Today, we took apart the cot that we bought for our first baby. Not just to turn it into something else, but to sell it off. All I can think right now is that I never got a “last picture” of my baby sleeping in it. The tears are coming, and my throat is feeling dry.
I smile as I think about how elated we were to buy that first cot. It was perfect for our baby. The dark wooden sleigh style that could transform into a cot, a daybed, or a toddler bed. This would last forever! It was so big! Kids grow up so slowly. (Little did I know…) But now the firsts have spun into lasts.
In the years to come, it would see wobbly bubs pulling up and smiling when mummy or daddy came in to say hello in the morning. It would hear the whines as we attempted to get our baby to self-soothe. It would see another baby, be transformed into a bed, and two little monkeys would climb all over its rungs.
Now, it’s worn. Like anything in this world that gets it’s fair use, it’s not like it used to be. And it’s too small. My baby is a child now and is getting taller by the day.
Whenever I move on to new adventures, even something as simple as a new size furniture, it’s very much bittersweet. I picture all the moments together, and remember that my babies won’t stay little forever. They grow so quickly. The next child even more so than the one before. The gurgle coos have now turned in to her speaking about her aspirations for a career and learning how to drive. She’s trying to think about growing up, being older. I’m not ready to talk about those things yet. I urge her to stay little. (And eat her veggies to grow bigger…there’s a delicate balance there.)
One thing I wish for my child now is that she be content to be a child. That I can savour and relish every single moment.
And while she does that, I’ll be over here in my rocking chair, bawling my eyes out.