Don’t Let Me Forget Their Littleness

Here I sit, between them on my bed, the toddler on my left and the baby on my right. They’re fast asleep, peacefully dreaming of the things little ones dream about. If I listen closely, I can hear their steady, soft breaths, and see their little chests rising and falling almost in unison. In this still, quiet moment, I beg the universe:

Don’t let me forget.


Don’t let me forget the way her fine, silky baby hairs tickle the tip of my nose as I breathe in her perfection, or the way she giggles as I bury my head into the cushiony folds of her chubby neck. She smells like milk, soap, and baby powder, even though I didn’t put any baby powder on her. She smells like love and hope and some magical, mysterious ingredient that only babies possess.

Don’t let me forget the gentleness of those soft, spongy, warm little hands. The little hands that clutch me like I am everything she needs. The little hands that graze and bat at me when she wakes up too early and I put her in the bed next to me and try to steal a few more minutes of sleep. The little hands that reach up and trace the outline of my face while I nurse her. The little hands that linger and hold onto me for that tiny bit longer, reluctant to release their grasp, as I place her into her cot at night.

Don’t let me forget my superpowers. My power to kiss away an ouchie, hug away sadness, hum away a bad dream and soothe any and every fear or worry. My power to know exactly what she needs when even she doesn’t really know. My power to calm her by simply being close by.

Don’t let me forget the heaviness of a drowsy head dozing off in the crook of my arm while she nurses, or the weight of a warm, tousled, freshly bathed head on my shoulder with little arms wrapped snugly around my neck.

Don’t let me forget the sound of little feet on my floor. Little feet running while she delightedly waits for me to chase her. Little feet treading slowly into my room in the middle of the night when she’s frightened by the thunder. Little feet squeaking on the tiles as she follows me around the house, wanting to do nothing more than whatever it is that I’m doing.

Don’t let me forget the way she fits perfectly onto the curve of my hip, as if it was designed just for her, or the way her strong, chubby legs kick excitedly as she watches what I’m doing while I sway her gently, or the way her warm little hand rests on my back.

Don’t let me forget the way she pronounces certain words in her own unique way, or the way she imitates my intonation, or the sound of her singsong voice as she narrates one of her brilliant made-up stories.

Don’t let me forget the way everything seems to glow as we lay in bed together on lazy mornings, while they roll around with each other and giggle and squeal, and I watch them, tiredly, proudly, gratefully, wondering by what stroke of luck these two were chosen to be mine.

Don’t let me forget their littleness. Because sometimes, that littleness is what makes me wish they would just grow up faster, sleep for longer, be more independent, give me more personal space, give me some freedom, and let me just do what I want to do, for once.

But it is that littleness – that precious, fleeting littleness – for which I will one day ache and yearn, and desperately, dearly miss.

So while I have it now, let me bask in it that little bit longer, breathe them in that little bit deeper, and hold onto them that little bit tighter, because who knows how quickly this sweet, sweet littleness will pass.

Don’t let me forget.

Don’t let me forget.

Please, don’t let me forget.

Advertisements

13 thoughts on “Don’t Let Me Forget Their Littleness

  1. Gosh, thank you for this. Last night I was sat up on the edge of my bed crying because my toddler is about to get well into swing of the “Terrible Two’s” and was screaming the house down. Sometimes we are are guilty of forgetting to find the joy in those moments but this was a beautiful read that really puts things into perspective in those times of desperation! Thank you so much.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Thank you for this. I have a 2 month old and 20 month old and it’s hard to enjoy how special this time is sometimes. Sleep deprivation and constant testing of patience can make you forget to stop and enjoy. Thank you for reminding!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Pingback: Don’t Let Me Forget Their Littleness | Her View From Home

  4. In tears now!! This is such a beautiful post. I am a firsts time mom (at 39) to an 8week old. I am stunned at how quickly he’s growing, learning and doing, this season is fleeting for sure. I just discovered your blog yesterday because of Love What Matters on IG, I am a major fan already
    Thank u!

    Like

  5. This is so beautiful and so beautifully written. I know exactly what you mean that it is the littleness that sometimes makes you think of wanting some more independence, and yet it is the warmth of those little hands and that head wiggle as she’s getting comfortable for the last nursing of the day.
    Don’t let me forget the littleness. Or to talk to my hubby about scheduling a date with myself :).
    Thank you!!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s