At this very moment, you rest peacefully on my lap, a serene weight as your small hand clutches your cherished comfort item. Surprisingly, that item is not a blanket but rather my own hair. Whether it’s the peaceful evening hours or the early dawn light, you drift into dreamland, your breathing steady and calm. As I contemplate placing you in your crib, I notice how much your little frame has grown, your legs extending beyond what seems possible for my lap.
Yet, despite the evidence, I find myself saying: you’re not growing up.
Just yesterday, I observed you effortlessly climb into your car seat at daycare. My role was merely to secure your seatbelt—soon enough, you won’t even need my assistance for that. It’s only a matter of time, a fleeting moment, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness.
But still, you’re not growing up.
You’ve recently mastered pouring water into your big boy cup. Although a few drops may have spilled, you handle it like a pro. While I remind you to grip it tightly, I glance over to see you confidently holding your cute tiger cup with just one hand. In that instant, I realize your small hand has become capable, stronger than I’d like to acknowledge.
Yet, you’re not growing up.
Today marked a milestone—no potty accidents! Your precautionary pull-up was dry, signaling your successful transition to big boy toilet training. Your collection of underwear has expanded significantly, and soon, pull-ups will be a thing of the past. I feel an overwhelming sense of pride, joy, and relief.
But you’re not growing up.
Upon returning home, you proudly displayed a goody bag from daycare, filled with snacks. Your excitement for the Starburst candies was palpable. When I offered to help you unwrap one, you ignored me, unwrapping it independently. The discarded wrapper lay on the floor as you relished the sweet treat.
But you’re not growing up.
I realize my thoughts might suggest otherwise. It may seem like I’m in denial, but the truth is I cherish this stage of your life. These days when a picnic with me is your greatest thrill, when my kisses can heal your small injuries, and when you still request to dance with me in public.
I understand that this phase won’t last forever. I accept the reality that you are growing. Your clothes are becoming tighter, and I find myself praying that your pants don’t transform into high waters before I can replace them with shorts.
But you’re not growing up. You’re growing out and away.
You’re outgrowing 2T clothes and leaving behind baby books. You’ve moved beyond size 9 shoes and sippy cups. Thankfully, you’re outgrowing tantrums and the need to ride in the front of the shopping cart. You’re growing away from me, too—out of my arms and away from my protective embrace.
As I consider this, I resist the urge to hold you close all night long, a battle I ultimately know I cannot win. I must lay you down for sleep—you need it, and so do I.
Rest well, dear child, and remember this: no matter how much you grow, you will never outgrow my days or my future. You will never escape my thoughts or my care. You will forever reside in my heart and my love.
As I close my eyes, I remind myself that by tomorrow, you will be just a bit more independent, a little farther from where you are now. I know that though you will grow out and away, I can still guide you from where I stand.
In this knowledge, I find peace tonight. I can accept the out and away.
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Summary
This reflective piece captures the bittersweet nature of parenting as a child grows up. The author expresses a desire to hold on to the present moments while acknowledging the inevitable changes that come with childhood. Through various milestones, the narrative highlights the emotional struggle of letting go while emphasizing the enduring love between parent and child.
Keyphrase: child growth and development
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