The best thing about becoming a mom for the second time is the little secret that you did not know the first time. You have the knowledge of just how fast time goes. You know that a baby does not stay a baby for long. You promise yourself that you will hold your baby as much as you want. You will sniff his tiny head and try to memorize the newborn smell. You will enjoy the moment and not focus on getting him to the next milestone. You can take comfort in knowing that you DID do those things. You truly savored every single moment of this year.
Yet time continues to move forward and before you know it you are just 18 days away from celebrating his first birthday. You swear that you were just complaining about heartburn and how uncomfortable you were. Wasn't it just yesterday that you were in the hospital giving birth? You can still feel the weight of his little body all curled up on your chest as you rocked him to sleep. It wasn't that long ago when he first sat up, was it? Or when he started to crawl? Yet as you type this you have had to stop at least 5 times to keep him from climbing up the stairs or shoving a drumstick down his throat. He is babbling right now behind you and every time you look at him he laughs. Your baby is growing up.
You know that the days and months and years to follow are going to be amazing. You have lived through it with his older brother and each stage is beautiful and exciting and unique.. But that doesn't stop you from tearing up when you read his birth story or look at pictures from his birth. Or from crying as you rock him to sleep knowing soon he will not need you to.
In the time that it took to write those last 2 paragraphs he has played with the dog and rolled around growling on the floor. He has tried to shove his head into his brother's football helmet and he has played with the doorstop. He is ready to grow up. You smile as you watch him go from one thing to another and thank God that this time around that you had the knowledge that babies don't keep.
Mother, O' Mother, come shake out your cloth,Empty the dustpan, poison the moth.Hang out the washing, make up the bed,Sew on a button and butter the bread.Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?She's up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.Oh, I've grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue,Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo.Dishes are waiting and bills are past due,Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek - peekaboo.The shopping's not done and there's nothing for stew,And out in the yard there's a hullabaloo.But I'm playing Kanga and this is my Roo.Look! Aren't his eyes the most wonderful hue?Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo.The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow,But children grow up, as I've learned to my sorrow.So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep.~ Ruth Hulbert Hamilton