O, the anguish. Nooooooooooooo!
She’s my baby. I only have two children, and my six-year-old (almost seven) baby is going to lose a tooth. For me, this signifies the end of the sweet little children stage. The lap stage. The small little scamps stage.
No more babies or toddlers for me, not until grandchildren anyway. And while I really, really, really want grandchildren, I certainly don’t want any for the next 20 years or so.
She’s big now. She’s in first grade. She has her own style. She has a best friend and she goes on sleepovers. She’s smart as a whip and witty and she has amazing hair, but she also still crawls in my lap and there’s part of me that wishes that she could stay in my lap, all warm and fuzzy, forever.
The tooth hasn’t come out yet, even though the adult tooth behind it has already come up. It’s like it knows I’m not ready yet, so it hangs tough in there, refusing to come out if only to extend the little girlness of my little girl a little longer for me.
It’s amazing how a stage can be so monumental for a parent, much more monumental than it is for the child actually going through it. Each new stage signifies growth but also the passage of time, an unwelcome reminder of how fast everything is moving. I wish I could freeze time whenever I wanted, the moments when I’ve looked at my children and thought, “I don’t ever want to forget this,” and have made the concerted effort to cement it perfectly and forever in my mind but then the memory never lives up to the moment itself. At those moments I wish I could freeze time and space and linger longer.
Since I can’t save the moments, I save their things. The wrist and ankle bands from the hospital, the blanket they came home in, their favorite books, the pacifier, the outfits they wore on a certain day. I have so many special little things that I’ve collected so that I can pull them back out and remember what it was like through all the good times. And yes, there were bad times too, mainly when I had postpartum depression, but the good outweighs the bad a hundred times over.
A whole passel of friends is pregnant right now. I plan to send each of them MAM Baby personalized pacifiers after their babies are born, customized with their names. A sweet little something that I’m willing to bet will end up in their keepsake boxes too, because time passes so very quickly when you’re a mama.
Disclosure: I am an ambassador for MAM, the babycare experts and makers of BPA-free pacifiers, bottles and teethers. I am grateful for their donation to our nonprofit, Postpartum Progress Inc., to help support our work supporting moms with postpartum depression.