Whoa Baby!

I'm always rather woebegone the night before my babies turn into big girls. The night before their second birthday finds me with a big a lump in my throat and a pain in my heart.

I remember Grace's last night as a one-year-old baby. She was tucked snugly into her crib and I went to bed. I was about 8 months pregnant. As I laid there, suddenly it dawned on me that I was about to lose my baby to "biggirldom". She was in the other room, innocently sleeping, sweetly, happily unaware that her baby self was slipping away into the night. She would awake a brave new two-year-old with strange, bigger, harder things to face. Never again to be a tiny, coddled baby. There was nothing I could do about it. I had tried pretty hard to let Grace enjoy her baby time, controlling things so her environment would be just so. But I couldn't control this. So I tossed and turned the night away, mourning the loss for both of us, unable to sleep with the weight of it. I still feel it as I think of her baby years. They were such joyful, carefree, innocent, years, free from the emotional roller coaster of the 4Th year and the intensity of the 5Th and 6Th years. No worries.

I felt it again with Emma and her blatant turning of 2, no warning. She was so sweet and easy. Quietly going about her life, eating, sleeping, playing, hugging and loving everyone. Then, BAM! Two.

Now it Clara's turn.

It's her last week as a baby.

(Monday Morning Smiles)

I'm watching her closely. Trying to record the last moments of her being a baby, in my heart.(Exuberant jumping on the trampoline. Solo time with someone watching! Wow!)

(Wednesday -Big sister time in a surprise spring snow.)

She cheated a little. There was a day about 5 months ago where she woke up one morning and was just a big girl. Baby the night before, big girl in the morning. So she at least gave me a warning. (Thursday night - watching the stunt skiing jumps in the Olympics. We suddenly noticed the Clara was practicing the ski jumps in the 2026 Olympics. She would stand like this and then fall flat onto the couch.)

(Saturday chores - Clara's job is to get toilet paper and refill the tp holder in the extra bathroom.)

But on Sunday comes the big one. It's so hard for me to give up those baby years. They are special and perfect. With all the work of a baby comes the whisper of heaven... "Here's a little piece of Me for you." And they carry that wonderful, sweet, spirit and that heavenly love around, holding it out for you to look at... all the time. Those first two years before they have to get down to the business of growing up are a cherished time.

(Sunday morning, first thing. John greets the big, new, 2-year-old)

(Sunday afternoon, right before and right after her birth time)

Oh, how I'm going to miss that!

And I remember

that my mom felt exactly the same way.