And I hate being cliche, but sometimes the weight of it all just overwhelms me and I have to put it somewhere or I'll burst. Plus, what else is there to write about? Vaccines? Um, no thanks. You thought there were wars over breast/bottle feeding, CIO or cosleep, WAH/SAH/Working mothers? Whatever, that's nothing compared to the seething hatred that comes out over vaccinations. You're not changing my mind, I'm not changing your mind, so I'm just going to leave that one alone. Pretty sure the second civil war is going to erupt over that topic.
But I digress...
I climb the stairs to find Ainsley in my bed. I stand there and stare at her for a moment. This happens. Probably once a week she makes her way to our room when Freddie falls asleep before her. She still hates to sleep alone. She is exactly the same baby I brought home 7.5 years ago.
I turn off the light and climb in next to her. I close my eyes and remember night after night of holding a tiny baby as we both fell asleep. Night after night of spooning with a toddler, preschooler, then child. She'll be 8 in July. There are more nights like this behind me than in front of me.
During the day, we are knocking on the door of the tween/preteen years. We're not there, but we're kind of on our way. Sometimes there are tears because she feels wronged. Sometimes she prefers to pretend she's out with friends than with her parents. Sometimes there are slammed doors and stomps up the stairs. Sometimes she talks about imaginary boyfriends. Sometimes there are wishes to be an only child or have the life of a friend. Sometimes I handle these emotions well, sometimes I do not.
But here in the dark, in my bed, she is still my baby. That sweet little girl with a big heart and huge soul. A giggle that warms my heart and a smile that lights my world. She still hugs me every day. She still calls me mommy...most of the time. She still likes to cuddle with me when she sleeps. But I know the days of shrugging off kisses and eye rolls are right around the corner.
So tonight I won't move her back. Tonight I'll smell her little girl hair like I smelled her bald baby head. Tonight I'll hold her long fingers like I held her pudgy hands. Tonight I'll lay here and hold her and pretend that she'll be mine forever.
