When the Mini was a baby, I felt like I spent a better part of my days looking at the clock, wondering if time was going backwards. I couldn’t wait for him to grow up and do stuff. Sure, he was cute and fun-ish as a baby, but I wanted him to walk and talk and play games and all that jazz. Of course by the time 9 months rolled around, I dreaded his first birthday because I really had no idea if I was going to have the opportunity to have another child. Hell, I wasn’t sure I even wanted another one at that point.
And of course, fully knowing that LG is my last this time around, I feel as if I can’t get her to slow the hell down. I don’t want her to grow up. I feel like I dread every month she grows up. I look forward to her as a toddler, yes, because, I hope that toddlerhood will be filled with My Little Ponies and tea sets and baby dolls. I look forward to that shit, as much as I looked forward to Matchboxes, no matter how much they hurt the bottom of my feet.
LG is getting her first tooth. I thought I had more time. I thought it would be another couple of months, give or take, based on when the Mini cut his first tooth. By the time it’s all said and done, I’ll have gone through four straight years of teething hell. I think I deserve a medal for that. But this whole getting a tooth business just further solidifies the fact that I’ve barely blinked and she’s already scooting, and rolling, and I’m that much closer to the end of my baby days. One of the things my mother always had a hard time with, was dropping the crib mattress. It was always a hard milestone for her. For me, it’s that first tooth, because while those little first teeth are cute, there’s no more of that really cute gummy baby grin. Gummy baby grin is one of my favorite things.
I feel like I can’t hold onto her tight enough.