There are milestones we watch for as our children grow: the first word, the first tooth, the first “I love you” - the things we’re just waiting to write down in baby books and call our mothers and friends about. Yesterday I realized another kind of milestone: the ones that you recognize only as you pass them and think, wow, have we come that far?
Daddy was chasing Annabelle toward the kitchen where I was making lunch. I watched as she turned in the kitchen doorway, put her hands on her hips, and sing-songed, “You-ou ca-an’t ca-atch meeee!” My surprised laughter at my little one dropping this classic childhood play-taunt held a tinge of sadness as I realized: Just three, she is already barreling toward the end of toddlerhood. She’s becoming a full-fledged kid. And then she’ll be a pre-teen, and then a teenager. Eighteen years sounds like a long time, but three have flown by already.
Last week she moved into her big girl bed, a twin. When I sneaked in that first night to straighten her covers and plant an extra night-night kiss on her little forehead, I marveled at how tiny she looked on the great big twin mattress. And she *is* tiny. But she’s growing, and soon - too soon - she’ll no longer look so small in that sea of quilt and pillows. And then someday she’ll see that great big bed as a “baby bed,” and she’ll want a bigger one.
May I ever be aware of how precious these days are. How amazing it is, accompanying AB on this first leg of her life’s journey. May I cherish every mile along the way, and often stop to appreciate how far we’ve come.