Practice

She’s wanted to hold him since the second she saw him, but I wasn’t ready. As Trent told her while she wildly spun in circles while he slept on the floor next to her, “You can do whatever you want when it’s our baby, but you need to be careful around this one.”

He’s their firstborn. Little, fragile, very new. I remember what that was like. Wanting to be a normal human being, but finding it totally impossible when that little face is right in front of you. Being overwhelmed and ecstatic and joyful and oh so very tired. And wanting the older kids to be a little more gentle, a tiny bit more careful.

But they are a bit more daring then we were. Maybe because they’ve had experience with the children of their friends, or maybe they are just calmer then I was (most likely), but they asked if she wanted to hold him. Her eyes lit up and she looked cautiously over at me. “If it’s okay with them, then it’s okay with me,” I told her.

They were right. She was ready. I am the one who wasn’t ready. My baby is holding a baby. Pretty soon she’ll be holding a baby every day. But can’t she still be my baby too? If she is the big kid, is she still my little girl? When did the baby in this picture, become the big girl in the picture above?

And then, just like that, I’m snapped out of it. Jesus, Megan, you’re missing this moment. And where the hell is your camera?!