I was president of my mom’s group a few years ago. Every month, our newsletter included a President’s Greeting. It was usually a cheery preview of the month’s upcoming activities. Since I’m not very good at cheery previews, I used the space to write my own personal thoughts on motherhood. I am including these on my blog for my children to read one day.
I can’t believe you’re such a big girl now. I remember meeting some of your friends in our mom’s group, and not being able to grasp the idea that one day you might be a year old like them. I thought time was standing still, and that it would be an eternity before you rolled over or crawled or talked. And now you are one of the big kids, and I am so proud of you!
I wish you would be able to remember what it’s like to be three years old. It’s such a shame that adults can’t remember their early childhoods. In 20 or 30 years, I’d love to be able to talk about yours with you. I’d love to find out what you’re really thinking these days. I wish you could tell me the reasons behind so many temper tantrums, and I’d love to hear your reaction to so many of the new things in your life, like carousel rides and your first taste of new foods. As it is, I can only watch with joy as your face explodes in happiness or wonder. At least I’ll always have that: the memories of your happy face, and remembering your gasps of surprise and awe. And I am blessed to be one of the people in your life who get the honor of holding on to those memories until you’re old enough to hear them and remember them for yourself.
I feel so lucky to be able to spend each day with you, watching you learn about the world. I know I am blessed to have the choice to be home with you every day, even the days that are full of tantrums and tears. I love the routine we’re in, and maybe I love it even more because I know it’s going to change in just a few weeks when your baby brother arrives. I can’t wait to see you become a big sister, but I know it will also be bittersweet because you and I will no longer have our days to ourselves. I am excited to watch you grow into a little lady, and watch you teach Jackson all the things you know: how to roll over, crawl, talk, sing, and laugh. Once you were the little one – now you’ve become the experienced leader. And now I know that time stands still for no one. I love you, Katie. You are an amazing little girl!