It’s been 9 years but I still remember all the struggles of you waking in the night, the toddler who wants to be up all night, the cost of vaccines, diapers and milk, the scratches and bruises of you running around.
I watched you learn to walk, dance, speak, count and read; how your eyes light up on our simple family celebrations. I have let you comfort me when I lost our babies. I let you stay in the hospital with me when I gave birth to your sister. I soaked in the magic of those moments.
I had to work and raise you. I remember taking leaves of absence when you’re sick or I’m needed in school. I’m just happy I didn’t have to help you with your homework. But even as I let you be, you still continuously surprise us with achievements every parent would be proud of.
You got into sports, and no matter how exhausting or expensive or painful it becomes, I am here to support you. You’re growing up so fast that I just woke up one day, and you have your own choices to make.
Life is just so busy that I rarely even stop to think what the end of those days look like. A few years back, 9 years sounds like a long time. Then suddenly hours turn into days, days into months, and months into years.
That little girl that I used to carry and cuddle up to watch cartoons with suddenly becomes this awkward little lady who’s still very much a kid on the inside but is quickly turning into a beautiful independent-minded person on the outside.
You, attending an acquaintance party over the weekend made me wonder how time passed so quickly. In a few years time I’d have to let go a little more, but for now I will hold on as tight as I can to try not to miss a thing.
The Domestic Goddess Wannabe 