How did this happen? When did my first baby become a child? I have reached the end of her baby book. There are no more pages to fill out. No more infant-firsts, no more baby experiences to be had by my oldest.
She is in school. I know she will have many more firsts, but the infant time, the baby time, the toddler time... are all memories. I wouldn't say the time flew by. But it passed with an aching speed that I fought and held on to, cursed and blessed, railed against and reveled in. I cannot believe her baby book is full.
Her legs are so long now. I can still carry her. She still wants endless snuggles and asks if she can sleep with mommy and daddy. I still catch her sneaking into my bed in the early hours of the morning. She's brimming with bat facts, obsessed with "Teeniepings", and resolutely dedicated to the color purple. She's a picky eater, and a warrior for animals, insisting all things should be taken care of, even sharks. But not ants. She hates ants. There's no page in her baby book for that though.
How can it be full? How is there not a page for her 10th birthday? Her first day of high school? Her wedding day? How can the first day of Kindergarten mark the last day of having her be my baby? I can't wrap my head around it. I have so much babying left to do.
Will she let me grab her and snuggle her like this in a year? What will her first day of 1st grade look like? Will we live here? My husband Petal has already applied to move overseas. What if we're somewhere in Europe? Or in the tropics? How come there's no page in the baby book for moving?
Will we remember everything about these years living at home? What if she forgets because there's nothing to hold on to? I remember everything about my childhood because I lived in my childhood home until I was an adult. What if she doesn't have that? She already doesn't remember where she was born. She was only 2 when we moved here. How can we move again?
Are we making the right choices for her, or is this selfish? I wish I knew what to do. I wish I knew what to look out for... what was important to remember... but there are no more pages in her baby book. No more memories to fill in. No more predetermined questions for me to discover the answers to. I just have to... figure it out, I guess.
