I’m linking up with Alison and Galit this week for Memories Captured. I love how they encourage me to stop and smell the roses. Even the bittersweet ones.
When did you become this little person? The one whose favorite food is grilled chicken and peas? The one who loses all her bones and slumps to the floor because the disappointment over the gated stairs has overtaken her entire being?
I held you last night upon your third wakening. I couldn’t bring myself to put you back in the crib and have you dream for all those hours away from me. It seems like only a moment ago we were one being. And now here you are, weeks, days away from turning one year old.
It has been an amazing eleven months, sweet Bean. You and I have accomplished so much together, learned so much from one another. You have given me the first year I always wanted, unmarred by postpartum depression’s sharp talons. And I have to admit I’m a little devastated it’s almost over. Not just sad or nostalgic. I watch you stand and wobble, try to put your socks on your toes, or color a little picture and as proud as I am of you, and as excited as I am to watch you experience your world, I mourn for the loss of the baby you were just the day before.
I want to sob, “Please don’t turn one. Please don’t leave me,” and yet I know that you are not mine. You came through me, but you are not mine to keep. And so I will stand here helpless to stop time. And I will try my best to let you grow.
I’m linking up with with Tracy, Galit , and Alison for Memories Captured today. They’ve asked us to honor our children – to take a moment and celebrate who they are and to be respectful of them when we write. I use this blog to share my own feeling about motherhood and my experience living with a mental illness, so I am always mindful of what my children might think when they read it many years from now. I want it to reflect how much I cherish them, but also how challenging it has been for me to become a parent and to balance my life with the life of this family. I hope they will take all the imperfections I share here and see their mother as more than just “mom,” instead a whole person with hopes, dreams, struggles, and bad days.
But when they read this post, (Hi, Doodlebug! Hi, Bean!) all I want them to see is how proud I am to be their mother. Because I am. Even on the hardest days and the longest nights, I am.
No1 turned four this past week. During her party, all the kids climbed into the giant-cardboard-box-turned-convertible and pretended to drive to Story Land. They all played so nicely together the whole party and No1 was in the middle of it all, being celebrated and lavished with the affection her bright personality brings to all of us. I love this picture. I love how she’s surrounded by her friends. I love the look of belonging I can see in her eyes. I hope that this is one birthday she will actually remember years from now, because it was incredible. She is incredible.
I so rarely get any time alone with No1. Her sister is always just a moment away from needing me and I have one ear her direction at all times. It’s taken its toll on us both. But this morning, my husband took the baby with him on an errand and it felt like old times in the house. Just me and No1. She was her old self this morning. No competing for attention, no baby talk, no attitude. We ate lunch together and both enjoyed the lack of interruptions. We searched for bugs in the house and had a lady bug funeral. And she did my hair.
Oh, how I miss this kind of time with her.
I’m linking up with Memories Captured this week!