K is now 17 months and surging ahead, with no concern for the past. I, however, lurk perpetually in the past, especially on evenings such as this when I'm going through her baby albums. I am silently desperate to clasp onto those moments so tightly, hoping to keep them fresh in my memory banks for as long as I can.
As I look through K's baby pictures, I feel like I am living some of the moments for the first time. This is because, sadly, I committed the worst of parenting crimes in that I failed to live in the present for much of these moments. I remember when K was a week old, I was thinking about when we'd ever reach the 12-week mark. When she reached 12 weeks, I yearned for all the allure that the 6-month stage held (solids! yay! what did i know!). When she graduated to 6 months, I pinned all my aspirations on 10 months - surely she would walk by then (again, i knew not for what i wished). I counted the days until she turned 12 months - surely that number contained magic? And as she inched toward 14 months...I held my breath for her first non mono-word sentence.
K has grown up too fast. I miss her grunting, instead of saying "momma, up, now!". I miss the the chubbiness, the drooling, compulsion to put everything into her mouth, the fascination with pulling herself up to a standing position before she plopped down again.
I'm determined to try harder tommorow to savor every unique moment that K offers up - the teething tanturms, insistence of running around unclothed and diaperless, the need to plunge headfist into every conceivable danger. I understand now why we shouldn't live in the future - it comes much too quickly!
Does it look like it cost $20? Yes. But does it sew? Heck yeeeeah.
