Rocking you to sleep tonight, I think about how we barely fit in this rocking chair anymore. I have to sit at an angle, your long legs stretched out along my legs, your head squished between my arm and the armrest. You’re getting bigger, and you’re growing up. I know this is supposed to happen, but I still have to pause and think how you were so tiny not long ago, fitting in my two hands. I used to carry you around resting on one arm. Now you hardly want to be carried at all. You’re independent and full of energy and curiosity. You want to do it all by “self.” I affectionately call you my little problem-solver.
You’re graduating to a new class at school, the “Toddler Class,” and it looks like a little classroom. You love your visits there, with pretend play stations, group snack time, potty training, and circle time with sign language, songs, and dancing! It makes me so happy to see you walk in by yourself, eager to begin your day at school, confident and carefree. And I think when I first had to leave you there, that first day when you were 3 months old and we were both unsure. We have both come a long way!
Your eyes are closed now, your breathing has slowed to a nice calm rhythm. You have curled yourself around me and lay solidly in my lap. I could hold you like this forever, my sweet girl. I now understand the meaning when a parent says, “she’ll always be my baby.” Lucy, you will always and forever be my baby. I’m so lucky to be your mom.