When I look at you like this, I forget so many things.
I forget the crying in protest as I change your diaper.
I forget the whining to go out to the garage so you can stand in the car.
I forget the protest when I think you’ve had enough so we come back inside.
I forget the fussing in the car rides.
I forget the borderline screaming in the doctor’s office as I put you on the bed to change you and so they can measure you (in a way, I’m almost grateful for your protests, because it drowned out the nurse asking me to think of 20 words you say that maybe only I understand. Next time I’ll just make that shit up: car, cat, dog, hummus, boobs, milk, screw you).
I find it hard to walk away when you drift off to sleep because you are so sweet and beautiful and vulnerable. I want to go back to your tough moments and snuggle you some more. I hope our snuggles make your tough moments better.
Because they do for me. They make me vow to keep trying to be patient as you learn and grow. It must be exciting and frustrating all at the same time. I know it is for me, too, on this parenting journey.