Two sleeps stand between you and two.
My heart bursts with pride and excitement; yet selfishly, I miss every single milestone that I anxiously wished away for you. Not because I hoped for this, but because us parents have a way of wanting to hit milestones and witness our children’s achievements. I can only imagine that veteran parents feel this same way as they witness their child walk across the stage to accept a diploma or walk down that beautiful flower lined aisle to say, “I do!” I understand that the magnitude of my example is quite possibly far more dramatic and impactful than each tiny victory you and I have celebrated, like graduating from rice cereal to baby food, weaning from a bottle, crawling then walking, learning new words and even this inevitable potty training. While in the big grand scheme of life, these achievements may seem minor, to you and I, they really have been huge.
And, yet I did like many other mommies warn in retrospect. They prepped me that time would fly. I don’t know why I did not listen. Maybe I thought I was exempt or maybe the daily grind was too much and I just felt I would be in this shirt stained, sleepless cycle forever.
Yet, two nights stand between you and the new number you so sweetly proclaim with those two tiny fingers.”Two!” I encouraged, as I bent your other three fingers down, practicing and practicing until you now do on your own.
You just absorb so much and our new norm is me watching you gain your independence and you partaking in every big or small success. Eating with a fork and opening your own cheese stick. You focus as you try to poke the straw into the ridiculously small juice box pouch hole, place toothpaste on your own toothbrush and dress yourself. Sometimes it is your pants that you are stretching onto your arms, but you are relentlessly trying. I hold you back for mere convenience of time, but mostly because I don’t want to let you go.