Thursday, 12 March 2015

The Last Time Poem

I talk to my Mom every day, throughout the day. Even though we live very far apart (6 hours flying) she always knows what's going on in my life and in my day. She knows that as much as I want to be the Free Spirit Mama I always imagined I would be during the years I tried to become a Mama, that sometimes I get sucked into the articles I read on the internet about how important it is not to nurse baby to sleep, to make sure her naps happen at a certain time, in a certain place. She knows that as much as I don't want to, sometimes I worry if she's eating enough solids or getting enough milk. (Actually, I never really worry if she's getting enough milk because Paloma is a fiend for the boob all day long! haha...) I sometimes worry if I should be night weaning her or trying to put her on a better schedule.

She sent me this poem as a reminder to stop worrying about what the internet (or anyone else for that matter) thinks I should be doing. That I should go ahead and nurse her to sleep, because someday, she won't be nursing anymore. That I should let her nap when she wants to, because eventually in August, she'll be in daycare and I won't have to worry about a schedule.

Paloma is 9 and a half months old. I'm thinking about her first birthday party. It has been an amazing and wonderful year of firsts, but also, a year of lasts. I remember when she was so small that I had to hold her against my chest and shoulder. Now, I only ever hold her on my hip. I remember when we went through a million burp cloths a day because she was spitting up after every feeding. Now, I haven't burped her in months and I'm thinking of swapping the drawer full of burp cloths in her dresser to another clothes drawer. There are so many little things that are different now that she's creeping up on her first birthday. I am more in love with her than ever and it's so cool to see her feisty little personality emerge. I find as she gets older the bond between us deepens and while I'm a little nostalgic for the days when she was a little tiny baby (and the day when I would have to go back to work was far, far away) I wouldn't go back in time if I had the chance. Well... maybe I would, just to tell myself to get off Google...

You may have read this poem before. But it's worth reading again. It's great.


4 comments:

  1. It's crazy to see the change in a baby in just a year. I see newborns now and I'm like OMG that feels like so long ago!! I do have to say that it is nice to not have to carry a burp cloth everywhere though... :-)

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  2. Oh, so true. I think back to other experiences in my life and how they were the last time, but I never knew it at the time. Luckily I don't have any regrets that I can think of. But lately I feel like life is definitely not a rehearsal, definitely not an apprenticeship and I need to be living right here right now taking it all in.

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  3. Such a great reminder. It's so hard to live in the moment sometimes!

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  4. I am finally at a point where I don't want to go back to their newborn days. For awhile, I wanted to because I felt like I was so out of it at the time that I didn't really enjoy it or savor it like everyone tells you. But after visiting a couple newborns recently, I find I don't want that. Our relationship goes both ways now. The interaction I have now with the girls is amazing and while newborns are sweet I always had a hard time with the one way relationship it was at first. Does that make sense? There is nothing better than a little toddler running at you and throwing themselves on you to give you a giant hug.

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