Tonight my baby girl wrapped her long, thin fingers around my pinkie and my heart melted (again).
I cannot ignore the reality that she's getting bigger each day. The dress that fit her perfectly yesterday was enormous on her the day after she came home.
That's what we want and work toward. We want the children to grow and learn and become independent as we try and lead them in the right direction...raise them up the way they should go.
And yet..it's bittersweet watching the milestones come and go.
I remember with *J* we eagerly awaited each milestone, wishing for the rolling and the crawling and the talking and the walking. With each child, I feel less rushed toward the future and more content with each stage. I want them to reach their potential, but I don't measure my parental success by how quickly they reach the milestones anymore.
I spoke with a friend about this the day after Miss M was born. She suggested that perhaps our resistance to rushing through the phases is because we realize the miracle of what God has blessed us with...so we want to live in the moment much more fully, savoring each amazing moment that God has given us.
Our 3 yo doesn't grip my hand when we take a walk anymore, instead he folds his hands across his chest and insists he walk himself. (A huge issue for me because he likes to run off..do not suggest this boy go play in traffic, it's his dream, I think.) I miss the days when his pudgy hand, was safely and happily within my own as we walked together, much as I will miss the days when Miss M's long, thin fingers will grasp mine.
So each day, I thank God (mostly ;) ) for giving me these brief moments of bliss; the seasons of wakefulness and diapers and snuggles and tantrums and moodiness and everything that comes with the ages and stages.
The seasons pass quickly and I will not be sad about their passing, but be thankful for the opportunity to experience them.