They leave a trail behind them as they go, sunshine trapped in ringlets and jam hidden in pleats, that tickles at my nose. The echoes of their laughter and the ring of their throaty whispers wrap around my throat. I am consumed by this moment, this shift that I am as sure is happening as I am powerless to slow it.
Just this morning the line of Avery’s neck stole my breath, so long and lithe, dark wisps of hair nipping at her throat. Her eyes were enormous and as she looked at me I saw a flicker of knowing. She saw the montage in my mind reflected in my eyes, knew the girl that I was seeing, and she claimed her. I’m here, mama. I always was. My baby is settling deep in the soul of a little girl and I know that I must keep my promise. I have to let her go, slipping deeper, as vivacity and daring overtake curiousity and wonder.
Briar stands alongisde, a furrow in her brow, “Can I fix it, mama?” And I crumble. “Oh, honey, you are my fix it, you are.” Gripped with the fear of losing my babies, they are becoming girls, nurturing and challenging. I ache for the simplicity of what we’ve had, but know its sweetness lies in its brevity. I wonder as I wipe my tears, if my own eyes betray a shift, a slipping away of younger eyes in my own face, as another layer of mama sorrow falls upon my soul.
i was just talking to my mom about this recently, this sadness that comes when your babies start growing up. and i was telling her that when i read posts like this one, i think of her. because while it's sad to lose the baby, there is some wonderful stuff that comes later on. i'm a woman full-grown now, and my mom and i have a relationship completely unlike any we've had before, and it's wonderful. i have no doubts that she was sad to see me leave behind the last remnants of babyhood, but what we have now is really amazing.
you are, seriously, the most amazing writer! that post was so beautiful.
So beautiful, Amanda. And such a universal experience. I feel it, too.
Gorgeous post.
I just got Elyse's hair cut for the first time. Bangs make her look like the big girl she is becoming. It broke my freakin' heart.
Oh, Amanda.
That was lovely, Amanda.
It happens with Roo, too. I totally get it.
xo,
otj
Oh Amanda, you leave me teary again. That terror takes hold of me more and more.
fantastic. you've captured this bittersweet moment so well.
That post was so beautiful.
I could really see the scene, touch it almost.
I have felt it too and am feeling it now.
Yes, their chubby cheeks and knees and arms fade away, becoming lean and long like sculpted string beans. But they'll need us for a long time yet. Really, they will.
I feel this too as the days slip by so quickly… where did my baby go?
I just added you to my google reader, so I won't miss a thing! I read through all of the previous posts you have written and seriously there is something comforting and relateable in everything you ever write. I love it! You never dissapoint me, thank you. And I have been thinking the exact same thoughts about my babies. My Little man lost his pot belly this summer and I was devistated! 😉
My breath caught a little as I read this, you've captured the ache and want and beauty of watching our kiddies grow up.
You think your babies are rowing up? Try college-bound. Oy, the tears.
Yes, another layer. Each one makes us feel as though we can't bear another, yet we must. And we do.
Your writing makes me feel dreamy. Thanks for that.
I never thought I'd be a mommy who had heartache when I put away too small clothes.
I was so wrong.
"sunshine trapped in ringlets and jam hidden in pleats" Oh, please write a book like this!