“I’m having that feeling again.”
My 9-year-old daughter has her arms wrapped around my waist. One cheek is pressed against my stomach. I’ve just spent the last hour reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of FireΒ to her and her brother, and now I’m trying to extricate myself from the area. She’s gotten out of bed and cornered me in the hallway. They both know how much this bugs me. They know how annoyed I get when I sit with them, talking or reading way past bedtime, and then they pull a “Scratch my back” or “Just one more hug.” It flips my switch faster than turning off the light.
“What feeling,” I say, trying not to grit my teeth.
“Like I can’t stop hugging you. And I don’t want to be without you. Like after my first sleepover.”
I remember how she had so much fun at her friend’s house but felt so strange afterward. Like she’d taken a glimpse through the doorway out of Neverland and realized that someday she’d have to walk through it.
“Is this because you spent so much time away from us today?” I ask.
“I think so.” She looks up at me, eyes filled with concern.Β “I’m getting too big.” Over the past year, she’s gotten long and lanky. I forget how tall she is, and I accidentally sit on her feet when she’s under the covers. But standing here, in her Belle princess nightgown, she looks so small. And I’m grateful. Because I know what she means, and she’s right.
It’s going too fast.
I hoist her up under the arms, and she wraps her legs around my waist. She drapes her arms over my shoulders and melts into my chest. We stand there for who knows how long. Enough time to make a memory. Enough time for me to take in the details: the weight of her body in my arms; the feeling of her hair on my cheek; the slippery material of her nightgown in my hands.
“You’re still my little,” I say. “You’ll always be my little.”
I squeeze her tight and let her slip to the floor. I mentally thank myself for all the times I decided to carry her when she could’ve walked. I wonder when I won’t be able to pick her up anymore.
She looks at me, still sad, still concerned. I bend down to kiss her and blow a raspberry into her neck. She bursts into fits of laughter.
“Hey! Don’t do that!” she says. Of course I do it again.
“Okay, go to bed. You have another big day tomorrow,” I say. She hugs me one more time and heads back to her room.
I walk downstairs and leave my little one to tuck herself back in.
Made me cry…you stinker.
π
Verity recently posted..Snap into place …
I know. I suck. But I did warn you!
Damn it, Tammy! *sniff*
Sorry! Okay, maybe I’m not that sorry…
Beautiful, love this! Totally know what you mean. Speaking of carrying them when they could otherwise walk, I remember the Montessori kindergarten my oldest attended told me I couldn’t carry her out of the building because she should learn independence! Loved Montessori preschool but never heard that one before. Childhood really is SO short!
Thanks Susanne! It’s so funny you said that because we’re at a Montessori school, and while I totally understand this philosophy, it’s one that I’ve never been able to get behind. I’ve been a “carry, hold, and hug” my kids for as long as possible parent. Even with all my health stuff. Well, you know…
UGH. My little turns 10 this week. I’m not sure how I’m going to take it. Or make it. Or both.
Kristen Daukas recently posted..Four Lessons of How to Navigate Through The Tumultuous Middle School Years
Oh Kristen. I’m not sure why, but 10 is so hard! Maybe because it’s double digits? But I want to read your 4 lessons on navigating middle school (maybe just to stress myself out further…).
bapu really enjoyed the article and of course the wonderful pic with caption should win an award!
This is why all my readers should be my dad.:)
That is just what it is like. But It’s okay. They DO grow up. They move away. But the call, and they text, and they visit and they call you Mommy and hug you and it makes it all better. But love every minute. I’m sitting here with tears streaming down my face typing this as my little girl and her man are here visiting. Still get’s me, even when she is here. π
Thanks Mary! And you’re so lucky to have a daughter who loves you so much and actually LIKES being around you. I can only hope for that.
Beautiful. Just beautiful, and I know exactly how you feel. Exactly. I have a two year old, the only one I still carry and I know that all too soon he will also be too big. Life. It just goes too fast.
rachel recently posted..Yes I Drive a Minivan II
Thanks Rachel! I don’t know about you, but having kids of various ages, I kind of have to remember that they ALL feel this way. I have to think about the fact that my son still wants to be cuddled like a little kid, even though he’s the older one. I forget sometimes because he isn’t the youngest.
LOvely post! That space between little and big is so small.
Allison Tait recently posted..Pink Fibro Bookclub: The Death of Bees
Thanks Allison! “The space between” — one of my favorite lines.
What a beautiful post!
Mary {My Life in Scotland} recently posted..Phota Your Mota
Thanks Mary! Thanks for reading.
What a PRICELESS moment. Your daughter’s picture with the caption is awesome!
Teresa recently posted..Quick & Easy Strawberry Shortcake
I’m just starting to experiment with the text on photos thing. So thanks for the encouragement!
I can’t believe I’m crying at 6:30 in the morning! I think the same thing every time I watch my little ones. Beautiful post.
Haha! You know, now that I think of it, I generally reserve my crying for evening! At least my complete “sobbing/total nervous breakdown” crying. Anyway, I’m glad you liked it.
Oh man, pass me the tissues!! Beautiful Post Tammy. A bit close too home really as my girl is turning 9 this month too. It’s going WAY too fast! Mel x
I know! WAY too fast. Happy birthday to your little one!
Oh dear, I appear to have something in my eye.
Just beautiful.
FYI I’m 37 and I’m still my mum’s little. My babies are her little littles.
Mrs Holsby recently posted..Project : Pimp My Dollhouse
Haha! I love that — I have a manly man friend who always says “It’s dusty” (he’s sappier than I am, incidentally).
gah now I’m crying!!!!! They do grow up WAY too fast!!! My 12 year old reminds me of that every day, especially now that he can look me straight in the eye. Thank you for the reminder to slow down and enjoy them. :*)
Melanie recently posted..World Breastfeeding Week Celebration
Ack! That’s going to freak me out. And with boys? When you have to start looking up at them?
I know exactly how you feel:(( As much as I love to see them become their own individuals, I hate that time is quickly moving on. I’m forever saying to my kids to “Stop growing! Promise me to stay little forever”. But, they will always be my babies.
Leah Davidson recently posted..My Pink Ball
Exactly. They’ll always be our babies. Even when we’re 90 and they’re 60.:)
A Mother’s love!
I have two older boys (9 & 10) who will snuggle on the couch with me but there is no way in hell they will kiss my check in front of their buddies. I get the spikey hair in my face if I am lucky. My daughter and baby boy still love LONG cuddles…..I’m hoping forever
xx
At least they’ll still snuggle in secret!
“You’ll always be my little” is just gorgeous. And so true. x
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