Tonight, I took Punkin shopping for a gift for her friend's birthday party tomorrow.
Punkin is almost 11 years old, and is nearly as tall as I am. I am 5'6". There is something a little unsettling about being able to look your 10 year old in the eye. It's Hubby's genes, of course. My people are normal-sized. His people are Amazons. (And I mean that in the nicest possible way, really). I figure I'll be able to have Punkin get anything resting on the top shelf for me in a matter of weeks. Who needs step stools? Oh yeah... the two little clowns... but not for long, I'm afraid.
I've heard children grow up fast, and it's the truth. No matter how long you've been wanting them to stop whining, poop on the potty, and just grow out of whatever "not wonderful" stage they may be in, all of a sudden you blink and they're patting you on the head. (Nevermind if I did that to my Mother, that's not the point)
I get mired in and stressed out about the nitty gritty of being a Mom too often. Days go by and I suddenly realize I need to pay more attention, so I try to do that. I try to make sure I tell and show the kids how much I love them. I try to be a little more "gentle" with the directives. Sometimes it works for a bit; sometimes longer.
At work today, a co-worker "C" brought in her adorable little four month old baby girl. The little baby girl was dressed in pink, had a cap of light colored fuzz on her head, the bluest eyes, and no socks on her little feet. She kept gnawing on her fist and would smile very big for her Mommy.
As I held the little cutie pie, I realized I had begun to rock back and forth a little. The way I used to when the clowns were small. The blue eyes reminded me of Punkin's, and the pink outfit reminded me of something Sweet Pea used to wear.
I cuddled wit da widdle baby girl, and couldn't help making baby talk to her. She was so precious, yes she was, yes she was. So alert, but content as I held her. Just before I somewhat reluctantly gave her back to her Mom, I gave her a little hug, and kissed her on the back of her head, inhaling that baby smell.
"C" walked away with her little one and I sat down at my desk, grinning from ear to ear.
That was good, holding the baby. I remember those days fondly. The nights, though, not so much. I still remember walking the floors in the middle of the night with Sweet Pea until she was over nine months old. The years of sleep deprivation -- No, siree. I don't miss the nights at all.
So, tonight, I spent time shopping with Punkin, just the two of us. We stopped and looked at the baby clothes and things for my little nephew (to be born in November).
When we came home, I went into Sweet Pea's room to say goodnight to her and smiled at the fact that she was mumbling in her sleep while I kissed her. (She is no longer the incredibly light sleeper she was when she was a baby)
Buddy was still very much wide awake (and would be for more than an hour) and very appreciative of the toy I picked up for him at the store -- a $5 "Nano Blaster". Best five bucks I've spent in a while (although, I think I have to get one for Hubby now)
So yeah, I miss my cuddly, adorable, smiley babies. The way they used to smell so good, and gurgle and sleep all curled up in a warm, little ball on my shoulder... or, or the way I used to wrap them up in a blanket and call them "burrito baby".
Still, there's something to be said for the people they become after that baby stage, and the people they will become further down the road.