On an ordinary Saturday afternoon a few weeks back, I started organizing the bins of my children’s clothes I was preparing to sell and donate. As I started going through this simple task on an ordinary day, the memories started flooding in. The outfit my daughter wore on her first Valentine’s day – there it was, complete with the cute headband and shoes with red hearts. Or the first pair of shorts that my baby wore for his first summer. That was just last March, when we went to the park on vacation and he looked so adorable.
Then I came to the cold, hard realization that I was in a transitional phase, one that I wasn’t prepared for: All of my baby’s firsts are my last.
His first steps. His first word. His first day of preschool. His first taste of ice cream.
They are ALL the last time that I will get that feeling, that vibe and excitement when he does something new, as he is my youngest and we’re not planning on any more children.
Tears streaming down my face buried in 9 bins of baby clothes, my husband definitely knew that I had lost it.I was acting as though a toddler who had just had their ice cream taken away. Okay, maybe that’s a bit over the top . . .
This whole epiphany – if you will – is so sweet. My oldest was born just a mere three years ago. Six weeks early, too! We were thrust into parenthood without even having the crib set up (yep, I thought I had the full 40 weeks!). The past several years of my life have been dedicated to getting pregnant and having my two kiddos. Books, advice, friends, both new and old were there every step of the way. Talking diaper brands, breastfeeding, is baby walking yet, when will your daughter have her first trip to Disney, so on and so forth. My life has been so focused on the next steps with my first; is my daughter ready for Kindergarten, when can she enroll in soccer, but I always knew I’d get to go through these same life rituals in just two years with my baby. But now my son grows and changes every day (they seriously change every single day!), I have completely been ignoring the fact that these moments, my baby’s milestones, are the last time that I will go through any of this.
I am so happy that I don’t get to miss these moments and my goal in sharing this isn’t to bring you down. I just know that I don’t want to miss anything, with either of my children.
I just can’t fathom that even 5 years from now, both kiddos will be in elementary school, and diapers and squeeze pouches will be a distant memory. I may even get to sleep 8-hours a night, fingers crossed. I’ll soon be the mom who is watching the sleep deprived moms, with coffee in hand stroll the aisles of Target aimlessly.
I don’t want to look at these lasts with my children in a negative light. I soak it all in, each and every day. After all, I have two healthy kiddos, a devoted and helpful husband, and the chance to savior these memories. Unfortunately growing up isn’t negotiable, but being happy and making memories is. I guess to get out of my funk, I will just have to keep plugging along in my mommy Pinterest world, planning birthday parties, and simply enjoy this ride called mommyhood. No more tears in baby bins for this gal – at least for today.