A few days ago, my daughter WAVED HELLO AT HER FATHER. And she’s been waving ever since- at me, at the baby in the mirror, at the grocery store clerk, at the pediatrician…..
Of course, I’ve been all *hands over eyes* “LA LA LA!! What? I didn’t see anything? No, I did not see my tiny tiny BABY wave! Silly you, she’s just a little bitty BABY- she can’t do that or sit up all by herself or say haaaaay Dad-dee when her father comes in the room or play peek-a-boo or …. LA LA LA STILL NOT BELIEVING YOU!!”
Self, meet reality.
I can’t take it, Blogites. I truly can’t. I swear to you I’d put the kid back in the womb if I could… ok, so maybe not. But I’d surely have stopped the clock around 3 months. At least for a little while. I would certainly not have a twenty-pound eight-month-old with a four word vocabulary who gets up on all fours and rocks in a manner that suggests she might crawl at any second. And I certainly wouldn’t let my kid get so big for her britches that she asks for “nuh-nuh” while simultaneously pulling up my shirt.
I am fragile these days. Sleep deprivation and employment uncertainty will do that to a gal. So you’ll understand why I cannot possibly entertain any thought in which my child grows up and no longer has sweet baby milk breath or neck rolls.