Stay Little My Love
In one week, my little love, my best girl, who made me a mommy, you will be three years old. To most people, a kid turning three is still a baby, a birthday blip on life’s radar. But for me, this year, it seems huge-like you’re taking a leap from baby to girl. I just can’t believe it. I want so desperately to stop time, to bottle you up and tuck you away, and keep you forever just the way you are now.
When I think of your future, there is so much I want for you in life, and I promise to give you the world when it’s time. There’s just one thing I ask for in return. It’s a selfish request, I admit it, but here it is…
I know you’ve heard me say this countless times. “Stay little!” I tease and you shout, “No Big! I want to get big Mommy!” It’s a little game we play. I pretend to fake cry as you answer, trying to make you giggle, but the truth is, behind my fake cry, there are real tears in my eyes. I see you with blinders on-as my 8lb 7oz baby girl, and probably always will. It’s that part of me that can’t bear to see you get big. That part of me just can’t bear to watch that cutie-pie two year old baby face changing into the face of a young girl.
Please Stay Little.
You’ll have plenty of time to grow up and be big; I promise. But for now, stay just as you are. I love that your hand fits inside mine. I love that you make friends wherever you go. I love that you talk non-stop from the moment you wake up. I love your high-pitched voice belting Christmas carols from the potty. I love your sensitivity to those who are hurting. I love kissing your little ski slope nose, de-tangling your unruly curls, and I love your chunky feet we call bread loaves. I love your mischievous giggles, your sidewinder eye glance, and your energy for days. I could look at you and watch you for hours. I love how beautiful you are. I love that your father and I made something so wonderful. I love how damn much I love you.
So, Stay Little.
Keep wanting me to tuck you into bed and fix your covers. Continue to run into my arms when I come in the door. Keep asking me, Why? Keep petting my hair. Keep telling me you love me the most and I’m your bestest friend. When you fall down and get hurt, keep letting me kiss your booboos. Let me rock you to sleep when you’re sick. Keep hiding in plain sight thinking you’re invisible, and telling jokes that don’t make sense. Keep dancing Mickey’s hot dog dance and calling the Clubhouse Crew your friends. Keep letting your little hand reach for mine when you get scared of the dark. Keep letting me love you more than you’ll ever know.
Keep staying the way you are right now-just awhile longer. Let me freeze time and build these memories to let me know for sure,
You’ll Always Stay Little to Me.
Talk about it