Moms of Littles, I know it feels like your babies will never be big. They will always be little and squishy.
Portable and plump.
Got a booboo on your knee? *Swoop!* I can easily lift you up in my arms for a snuggle.
Want to see something over that tall fence? No problem, climb on my shoulders, kiddo.
Feeling tired and clingy? It's okay, I can do that Mom sway with you on my hip while I cook dinner.
Something scared you? Bury your face in my neck, I've gotcha.
But all along I knew they were secretly growing. Busting out of those baby onesies. I'd try to smoosh them into their favorite cozy sleepers, but eventually they'd bust out. Anybody else miss the footed pajama phase?
My Dad used to joke he stretched my sister and I at night (which might have been true because we are collectively 5'11 and 6'1 - hmmm...). So, I knew it was coming. I'm not gullible enough to think that my children would never grow up. Right?!
But then it happened. I reached to pick you up and nearly tumbled over from the effort. You are all legs and knees down. Minimal baby chub remains to pad your behind when you climb on my lap. I find myself crouching or sitting to hold you.
You are a KID now. Not a baby.
And the biggest difference to me is that I can no longer easily lift and hold you in my arms. I will try though, despite the pain in my back and neck. I will attempt to carry you as long as you will let me. Until you beg me to put you down. Until you claim to be too grown up.
But even then, I'll hold you.
Stay little sweet girl, just a bit longer.