Well, it’s happened. Little miss really isn’t a baby anymore. Of course, I still – and likely always will – call her my baby, but she’s decidedly a toddler. A little independent toddler who likes to take control and do things her way. It’s great to watch, but with growth comes a little sadness for the loss of the little baby I used to have (no wonder so many people get pregnant again at this point!). Here are the things I’m missing the most:
Who would’ve thought I would mourn the long drawn-out process of spoon-feeding my daughter her meals? I used to love snack time, when she could chow down on some finger food, freeing me up to do other things while she munched away in her high chair. Now, little miss is happy to spoon in her own food. I’m proud as punch, but also a little sad that I didn’t know that the last time I did it, it was the last time.
Related: The end of my breastfeeding journey
Holding her hands while she walks
How sweet it is to hold your little ones’ hands as they walk down the street, their little stumbly steps supported by your strength. Then suddenly they can do it on their own, without your help. For us, even holding hands in general is a no-no. She wants to do it all her way, and pushes my needy hand away in protest.
Cuddles against my chest
In any way, shape or form, this is largely gone. Gone are the days we could walk down the street strapped to Mumma’s chest in a baby carrier. So too are the days of curling into Mumma and falling asleep. Oh, sure, we still have the occasional cuddle, but they’re not nearly as frequent as they used to be. She’s happy to do things on her own now.
OK, this isn’t necessary a longing for the past, more a frustration of the present. Once upon a time I could clean up the house before dinner time. Now, there’s a little person following me everywhere I go, undoing all my hard work, and strewing toys all over the apartment. There’s actually a trail from her bedroom to the patio, each and every day. The only positive spin I can find is all that bending is keeping me fit!
I love rompers. I think they are the cutest baby outfit ever. Especially the legless ones, where their little chubby thighs poke out and ask to be squeezed. I still occasionally put little miss in a romper, but I’m well aware she’s reaching an age where she needs a little more dignity than that. But I’m going to stretch out that baby look for as long as I can!
I’m happy I’m bringing up such a bubbly, happy, independent little lady. I just wish time didn’t go so fast!