Stop this train I want to get off and go home again
I can’t take the speed it’s moving in
I know I can’t
But honestly won’t someone stop this train ~John Mayer
I sat in the recliner watching my girl hum to herself last night before finally turning over on her side, nuzzling her head into my chest. I watched her eyes close as she drifted off to sleep and I was sad that I had to go put her to bed. It was one of those nights that I just sat and stared and knew I’d miss her once she was in bed.
And today I sat transferring photos from my phone to a flash drive to free up some space – with the amount of pictures I take of this little person on a daily basis,13GB of storage doesn’t go very far. And as I transferred, I marveled at pictures like this one…
I tear up when I think about her getting older. It’s happening way too fast. I miss my baby as I hold my toddler and I know in a few years I’ll miss my toddler when I hold my 5-year-old. And when she’s a teenager, I’ll probably just be walking around crying all the damn time because I won’t get to hold her anymore and everyone will think I’m a nutjob because all I’ll do is walk around sobbing “my baby is bigger than meeeeeeeee.” I think about more babies in the future, but at this very moment, sitting here right now, I just want my baby Summer back. I want to watch her crawl for the first time again, I want to watch her smile again after sneaking her a nibble of pizza at 4.5 months. I want to give her a bath in the kitchen sink again.
I want to remember the last time I breastfed her because then I’d remember it – I didn’t know it was the last time and so I didn’t soak it up like I wish I had known to. I want to put her in tiny little footie pjs that makes me go awwwwww instead of holy shit those are so long and dance her to sleep in the kitchen without my arms falling off. I miss that tiny baby so so much it hurts. And now I’m doing the fast waving of my hands in front of my face to keep all this stupid water away that keeps pooling in my eyes and making it really hard to see my computer screen.
Stupid weird eye water drips.
I felt this same way almost this exact time last year. I got sad. Really truly pit-in-my-stomach sad. It was just before her first birthday and here I sit again now a year later, sad about the fact that she’s turning two. I’m beginning to see a pattern and I wonder if on her 10th birthday she’ll say something like, “oh gee look, it’s my birthday and mom’s ugly crying again.”
2012: 1st birthday
2013: almost 2
A wise person just reminded me that no matter how big she gets, she’ll always be my baby.
I just wish she’d slow down a little.