13 10 / 2014
Daily morning send-off ritual, around 6:30AM:
I tell the girls to hurry brushing their teeth because they’re going to be late. Girls finish brushing and come to me for their goodbye kiss. I kiss them both on the forehead, remind them to be good in school, say, See you later, I love you! and herd them into the car.
Little S is on my hip, and the two of us watch the car drive away, with me holding Little S’ hand so she could wave goodbye. We walk a bit and see the car turn to the next street. I wave a BIG goodbye wave as the girls wave back at me, windows rolled down. I hear them both shouting, in unison, and excitedly, Bye, Mama! I keep waving until the car is out of sight.
I hug Little S a little tighter. And discreetly dry my eyes.
Every single day.
10 10 / 2014
It’s been a crazy-wonderful seven months since I gave birth to little S.Despite not knowing how to mommy three kids and not being able to have things done as quickly or as well as I’d like to, it’s all been great. Like, more happy days over I-want-to-pull-out-my-hair days.
Anyway, I mentioned to the husband last night that I feel that we’re enjoying little S’ babyhood the most. He thinks it’s because (I’m paraphrasing) we’re not as scared we’ll break the baby, and that we’re more sure of ourselves as parents.
I agree completely. But one thing I didn’t anticipate is that our joy of having a tiny one is multiplied, because our two older daughters are just as happy to have her. Happy of course, is an understatement. They’re ecstatic. They just love, love, love their baby sis.
Which is not to say that we don’t have stressful days. To be honest, our stressful days have increased proportionally, with another child in the mix. But the happy days have increased too, so I can’t complain.
I was rocking to little S to sleep just an hour ago, and I couldn’t help noticing how big she has grown over the last seven months. It’s bittersweet, because I know she will never be as small or as young as she was while I held her. I kept staring at her as she fell asleep, as her eyes grew tired, as her lids blinked slower and slower until they finally closed.
I lay her on the bed and I tried memorizing how she looked as she slept, because soon, she will grow bigger and things will not be the same. She will not sleep with both arms up and her legs slightly bowled, as all babies do. She will not stir and start rooting immediately. She will even cry differently, and her cry will soon become a toddler cry and not a baby cry.
She has grown so much and I realized, painfully, that I’ve forgotten how it felt to hold her when she was much smaller.
I try my best to hold on to the small things that I take for granted every day, and as with her two older sisters, I forget. With all of them, I held them and said to myself, I will never forget this, how this feels, but I failed every time.
But while I’ve forgotten their little idiosyncrasies or how small they were, the memory of feeling delightfully content remains. And that’s enough for me.
05 10 / 2014
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21 8 / 2014