Tuesday, March 16, 2004

Last Year at This Time



Last year at this time, Babygirl had just learned to sit up.
Now, she crawls onto a kitchen chair, then onto the table and sits there.

Last year at this time, Babygirl was bald.
Now, she has a wispy, gold baby-mullet that shimmers with red highlights.

Last year at this time, Babygirl woke up every two hours throughout the night.
Now, she sleeps from 7 p.m. to 7 a.m.

Last year at this time, I was the only adult that mattered to Babygirl.
Now, she adores her daddy and hollers "da-da! da-da! da-da!!"

Last year at this time, Babygirl's babyhood seemed like it would stretch on forever.
Now, she's a tiny girl, not a baby.

Last year at this time, Babygirl had two teeth.
Now, Babygirl has a mouthful of teeth and she does not want them brushed.

Last year at this time, I wished time would hurry. I wanted to sleep again, I wanted to go places alone again, I wanted her to be able to talk to me, to tell me what was wrong.

Now, I miss her being six months old.

And next year, I will miss her being eighteen months old.

(Reminder to self: Please, do not wish your life away.)

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