They say things like; ‘they are only little for so long, blink and you’ll miss it!’ But for me the newborn stage was a long, drawn out ordeal. For the most part, I was an exhausted, emotional, anxiety stricken mess. And though I didn’t wish the days away, I wished that horrendous feeling away. That degrading voice lurking around every corner, lingering every moment longer and longer, echoing as days turned into weeks. Begging for that weight to finally release me so I could soak up all the baby goodness that everyone was warning me I would miss..
Come 6 months, I had a handle on things. Sleeping, feeding, routine, breathing. I was back in the game and getting a grasp on all there was to learn about you – my precious little boy, growing rapidly every second of everyday. I had always loved you and felt oh so blessed to have you, but overwhelmed by it all, consumed by anxiety entirely and therefore held back from enjoying motherhood initially. But half a year under our belts and it was a completely different story. I had a smile bigger than the sun and moon combined that could hardly be wiped from my face at the thought of you. And a heart that was overflowing more and more each day I got to spend with you.
Even now today, when I see babies around that age I get emotional. I honestly tear up around stranger’s babies, because it takes me back for a brief moment to those days. Not just the sad ones, but the days where life took the most incredible turn, and I began to love motherhood like I always dreamed I would. And that is was brings on the tears, of pure happiness and the utmost gratitude. (Full disclosure, I am currently welling up with a quivering bottom lip and all as I type, of course..)
By 9 months, everyday with you was a blast! A crazy, fun adventure I was frequently thanking God I got to spend with you. It didn’t take you long to wear me out most of the time, but running after you quickly became my favourite cardio. Ok, the only cardio I willing enjoyed.
Your first birthday raced around, and so did you! On your favourite tri-coloured trike, zooming down the hall and around the kitchen island as though every bedroom to lounge room trip was a time trial your life depended on. Much to your fur-stborn big sister Billie’s distress.. Fellow animal lovers, don’t worry – she did have a step up level of refuge he couldn’t reach her on. So chillax, no need to call the RSPCA just yet.
But wow, has this year from ONE to TWO flown by. I mean, really and truly zipped by. It has disappeared quicker than a cube of sugar dropped into water by tiny raccoon hands. (If you haven’t already seen this YouTube clip – look it up and thank me later!) You have been a walking, talking, eating, growing machine and I honestly think some days I was slipped a Roofie and slept through entirely! (Yet somehow still feeling entirely zapped and like I’ve only had 4 hours sleep between today and pre-pregnancy) Because the weeks and months have really skipped along faster than I expected.
And now here I am – packing down the decorations from your party, tidying up the balloons and Bluey cake topper, and polishing off the last few hundred puppy themed iced sugar cookies from your birthday party. Because now, you are TWO.
Tiring, trying, testing, talkative, tenacious, talented, tender, tremendously perfect two.
And soon enough, you will also be too heavy for me to carry
Too fast for me to catch
Too lanky to fit into your Bonds zippies for bed
Too big to squeeze into your high chair to keep still at meal times
Too independent to need your mum to cut up your lunch
Too tall for me to put on my shoulders
Too restless to sit through 7 episodes of Bluey back to back
Too gorgeous to have only your mum follow you around with heart eyes
Too clever for me to trick into eating your veggies first
Too busy to scoot duplo trucks around the lounge room floor
Too old to travel for free on most airlines (or get away with it at least)
Too much of a bottomless pit to only need 1 meal at dinner
Too long-legged to fit your knees under your trike handlebars
Too quick to pull your face away when I try to squeeze those cheeks
Too tired for yet another 4 books at bedtime
Too charming to have only stolen your mother’s heart
Too embarrassed for a nudie run from the bath to your room every night
Too grown up to be called my baby anymore, but now a boy.
Even a young man.
And yet, in the most loving way, I will try to hold you back. If only in my head, I will hold you back as the little baby you once were, seemingly just 2 minutes ago. And soak up every second of that memory. Because no matter what the birth certificate, shoe size, school grade, driver’s license or mortgage application says – you will always be my baby.
‘Let me love you just a little more, before you’re not so little anymore.’