A moment ago you were toddling about, unsure of tiny steps. Your clothes were so small, and yet they’re being out grown at a record pace. Every new shoe we buy is still pint-sized, but if I lined them up the newest pair would look gigantic compared to the pair you wore home from the hospital. You’re twice the size you were last year, leaping with scattered limbs from the couch to the futon, playing a game thats rules always change. I delight when I hear you babbling to your toys, making up games that I will never understand.

Mothers can worry too much, we worry over every fall and cry from the other room; but when you’re a child, there is no pain. There is the fleeting shock that comes with a skinned knee but all it will take is a kiss from mommy and that pain is forgotten, and you’re off on your next adventure. 

One more day to play outside in the summer sun. It’ll be your first day of school tomorrow. Next week is your high school graduation, and the end of the month is your wedding. Time moves so fast in a mother’s mind. I wish sometimes I could stop the clock and keep you from growing. I want you to stay small as we fall asleep on the couch watching the same happy, singing movie for the 100th time. Since you’re falling asleep while cuddling me I can forgive you for getting those songs stuck in my head. 

Why do you keep growing? I want you to stay small forever, stay my baby. But then again, I look at you and want to watch you grow up and see how much you will change. Will you become a great person? A politician, a doctor, a scientist? An artist or a lawyer? Will you be kind? Will you be happy? 

I’m thankful I have my albums, where I can return to my memories whenever I want; like the day you started making sounds, little babbles that I knew in my heart meant ‘mama’.  I may be smiling in the picture, but you’ll never know how much I cried when you had your first bath in the tub, because you got too big for the sink. I’m sad about it now, but on your prom night I will take great delight in showing your date those photos. 

I finally finished putting the colorful band-aid on your knee. It has your favorite cartoon character on it, this obviously helps heal faster. It only took a moment to treat my tiny patient, but my thoughts have been racing. I’m leaking salty tears, but you don’t notice. You’ve flown out the door on wings of joy, out into the summer sun, the pain of the scrape forgotten as soon as I kiss you. 

When I look at you, I can see the shape of my heart. I am so proud that you are my child. I will do everything in my power to show you how to live well, how to find joy, and how to love.