At this moment, you are peacefully resting against me. Your left arm is stretched above your head, grasping your comforting possession. Instead of a conventional blanket, it’s actually my hair that you hold tightly as you drift into slumber, whether it’s at bedtime around 9 p.m. or during our early morning wake-ups at 5 a.m. Your breathing is soft and steady, and I’m almost ready to lay you down in your crib, carefully stepping over the baby gate that now feels more like an afterthought. The weight of your little body nestled against me is a reminder of how quickly you’re outgrowing my lap, as your legs dangle longer than they used to.
Yet, you’re not growing up.
Just yesterday, I watched you climb into your car seat all by yourself when we were leaving daycare. My only job was to secure your harness. Soon enough, I suspect you’ll be able to handle that on your own too. It’s merely a matter of time, a small matter of time, which brings me both joy and a tinge of sadness.
But you’re not growing up.
You’ve also mastered pouring water from a bottle into your big boy cup. Sure, you might spill a drop or two, but you’re getting the hang of it. I often remind you to use both hands, thinking you need my guidance—until I glance over to see you confidently holding your tiger cup with just one hand. In that moment, I’m taken aback; your hand has grown stronger and more capable than I would like to admit.
But you’re not growing up.
Today you made it through the entire day without a single potty accident, just like the past week. Your pull-up was dry this morning, signaling your body’s adjustment to toilet training. Your collection of underwear has skyrocketed from three pairs to nearly thirty, and soon the pull-ups will be nothing but a memory. My heart swells with pride and relief.
But you’re not growing up.
You returned home from daycare with a goody bag filled with treats, and it was the Starburst that caught your eye. After searching through the bag, you ignored my offer to open the first one and instead, unwrapped it all by yourself, tossing aside the paper carelessly before popping the candy into your mouth.
But you’re not growing up.
I realize that everything I’ve shared suggests the exact opposite of this sentiment. I may come across as a parent in denial, but I assure you, that is not the case. I cherish this phase of your life, where our picnics are the highlight of your day and you still want me to kiss your boo-boos to make them feel better. I adore these moments when you still ask me to dance with you in public, relishing each shared giggle.
I understand that this won’t last forever. Your clothes are a constant reminder of how you’re growing. The snugness of your T-shirts and my hope that your pants don’t become high-waters before you switch to shorts are all evidence of your rapid development.
But you’re not growing up. You’re growing outward and away.
You’re outgrowing your 2T clothes and distancing yourself from baby books. Your size 9 shoes are on their way out, just as sippy cups will soon be a thing of the past. Thankfully, you’re also moving beyond tantrums and front-seat rides in the grocery cart. You’re growing away from my arms, my protection, and our bedtime snuggles.
Acknowledging this, I resist the urge to hold you all night long, knowing that I must lay you down for your own rest—and for mine too.
Sleep well, dear child, and understand this: No matter how tall you grow, you will never escape my thoughts or my affection. You will always reside in my heart, and my love for you is unwavering.
As I rest, I’ll calm my heart and quiet my mind. I’ll close my eyes and pretend that by tomorrow, you won’t be a little further out and a little farther away than you are right now. I’ll remind myself that even as you grow, I can still offer guidance from where I stand.
But you’re not growing up.
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In summary, while your physical growth is evident, the emotional bond we share remains unbreakable. Cherish these moments, as they are fleeting, and know that my love will always be with you, regardless of how much you grow.