When I first found out that I was pregnant, I was overwhelmed with emotion. Some good, some bad, and some all in between. It was this insanely wild ride that I was far from prepared for. But let me tell you, parenthood is an e n t i r e l y different animal. There is absolutely no amount of reading, preparing, or top of the line training that one can do to be ready for a child. The entire venture is the epitome of the expression "by the seat of your pants." Some days, I think I have it all together, other days I find my son in his bed covered in poop because he took his diaper off and decided he wanted to inspect it. Whatever the circumstance may be, there is always some lesson to be learned. Over the last couple of years, I've had my fair share of these lessons. But the one that hit me like a ton of bricks tonight, just 7 days away from my little boy's second birthday, was how quickly the little moments vanish.
My son is a pretty good sleeper. We put him in his room and if he's not quite ready yet he'll talk to himself and play until he eventually falls asleep. Rarely does he fuss and if he does, it's usually because he still wants to play or watch BobBob (Spongebob). Tonight however, he was crying like he was hurt, scared, or both. I went in to find him sitting up wrapped in his blanket with gigantic crocodile tears streaming down his face. I swooped him up and it all stopped as if I'd flipped a switch. I held him for a minute and decided I'd sit and rock him a bit until I knew he had calmed down. We sat in his rocking chair and I gently started to rock what I had remembered to be a little baby. It quickly dawned on me that this was not the case. This little face that I was looking at was not that of an innocent little newborn, but of a little boy. A little boy who's features have become more defined and less soft and squishy. As I stared at him, I began to well up. This sweet little baby that I once knew so deeply had grown into a little boy right before my eyes. As I held him I realized that the little legs that used to rest in the nook of my opposite arm, were now dangling across my body down the side of the chair. It took everything I had in that moment to remain calm and collected as the lump in my throat began to suffocate me.
I never thought that I would be that parent. You know, the one that cries for every birthday, holiday, and major milestone. The one that talks about "how fast they grow up", and how "they won't be little forever." But here I was rocking my almost two year old as silent tears rolled down my cheeks. The reality is that I always knew this was going to happen - kids grow up. I know I did (in some ways... ha). But the most gripping and gut wrenching part of it all is that when it seems like you just finally have the hang of the phase that you're in, to where you could actually enjoy it, and they move on to the next phase. All you're left with is longing for the phase to last a little longer so you can enjoy it and panic as the next phase starts without any sort of warning or lesson plan. And then that crazy cycle repeats until you realize you now have an 18 year old (*gulp*) about to start their own lives. (No wonder my dad cried at that Mary Kate & Ashley movie when I was younger...)
As we head into this final week of 1, I realized that while there are so many moments I could have done without, there are significantly more memories that I will forever be thankful to have had. Over this last year, my son has learned more than I'd ever thought, grown into a personality bigger than the United States (and probably even Canada), and has reinforced my love for being "Mama". This little boy is nothing short of the energizer bunny most days, but each and every day that I get to spend with him is a blessing. Tonight was a beautiful reminder of how many positives there have been in what can often feel like a violent storm in the middle of the ocean.
I may not have it all together, but this little boy is a product of a love unlike anything I could ever have imagined and the family that we have been able to create is the ultimate blessing. As I rocked my sweet baby boy, I prayed over him as I have so many times before. But this time I not only prayed for his life, health, and safety, I prayed for my ability to continue to be the mama that he needs me to be. I thanked God for the blessing of having a child to love and nurture and for this beautiful family we have been so blessed with. Trials are inevitable, and some days are just going to be hard, but the reality is that as long as we have each other and Jesus, there is nothing we can't handle.
Here's to my baby, the little human who grew inside of me - Happiest of birthdays to you Wooty. You will always be my baby, no matter how big you or your tantrums get. I love you endlessly and thank God for you every single day. You are beyond any blessing I could have ever asked for and I can't wait to see what God has planned for you in the future.
Wub you,
Mama 💋
Also, if you're reading this in the United States, Happy Fourth of July! Be safe and have a blessed holiday! ❤️💙
Note: Reposted from my previous blog.
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