Because Annie (aka Annie Grace, Grace, etc.) is the youngest and ONLY little girl in this family she is still quite a novelty. Parenting books talk about treating your child with respect, they are people, too, but I can't help myself! She's my little toy, my favorite stuffed animal. I'm afraid she'll never be allowed to grow up. I need her squishy little self close by. Hah, I'm having haunted memories of "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane." Have you seen it? CREEPY.
(Thank you, Great Grandma Carter, for the wig)
We go to storytime at the library every Thursday. I'm in a strange place in my life because I look around at scrambling mothers who have two, three other little ones they're chasing down. Where have my crazy little kids gone? All I do is sit there. Annie doesn't move an inch once she hits the carpet (believe me, this DIDN'T happen with any of my other kids). I feel old. And then I remember when I was a mother with scrambling kids and I thought, "Will I EVER be able to just SIT STILL? Gosh, I'm tired." It's happened to me without even realizing it. People always say that happens. But still, it's sad (but also happy, because we're growing, becoming).
(My designated egg-cracker)
Remember the book, The Happiness Project, I talked about the other day? The author says, "The days are long but the years are short." That about sums it up.
(Waving Goodbye to the fellas on the bus...in William's shoes.)
Before you know it, Annie won't be squishy anymore. She'll stop believing that she'll only be allowed to wear mascara when she's a mom. She'll stop asking me to scratch her back because she loves when the shivers and goose bumps come. She'll stop stroking my cheek ALL THE TIME. She'll stop thinking Grandma's house is the COOLEST place on the planet. She'll stop sucking her thumb (okay, so that's not such a bad thing).
But for now, I'll squish away while the baby fat is still prolific . . .
Which leads me to wonder, "Why can't mommy-fat be just as cute?"
Uh, nope, no wondering necessary, it just isn't.