Not My Baby Anymore
This past year has been a blur: a blur of new baby, long hours of nursing, and now breathtakingly busy days since I’ve returned to work. During this crazy haze, something important has snuck up on me, and now it’s weighing heavily: Baby Cakes is turning five tomorrow, and I’m sad.
I’m really, really sad, and I never expected it. I felt a few twinges when she turned four last year, but nothing like this. I kinda feel like I’ve lost a year with her. Our way of coping with the new addition to our family was for me to predominantly care for the baby, and McHotty took Cakes most of the time. I missed a lot of bedtime stories, and now I feel guilty.
I know there are a lot of great things about five. Life is a lot easier, we have wonderful conversations together, she is lots and lots of fun. But she will never be my baby again, and each month she needs me less and less. Since the first five years went this fast, I’m already dreading the day I will look at the calendar and realize she’s turning ten, then fifteen.
They say the days are long and the years are short, and man is that true. Tonight I’ll put a smile on my face and bake cupcakes with my girl, and read her extra stories before bed. I’ll be smiling on the outside, but inside I’m sobbing.
Labels: Cakes
6 Comments:
Oh, honey. It can sneak up on you when you're busy, can't it? But you are so not alone. Have you read kgirl lately, on Bee turning 5? Or me on Pumpkinpie turning 6? It is just as you say - it feels like you're losing them, and it's pride-making and heart-breaking, both. Next year is the start of real school for us, and it is throwing me into a panic for the same reason - no more leisurely mornings on my late days, so when will I spend time with my girl?
You can't get last year's storytimes back, but you can talk to McH about going forward an ask if you can alternate, or try to work in dates with her on some of the magic summer afternoons coming our way. After all, isn't that what summer's for?
Hey Julie, I had these moments when my kids hit milestone birthdays too, and sometimes it just came out of nowhere. My baby (youngest of 4) will be 14 this year and starting high school and I'm already freaking out a little. And, believe it or not, 16 years later, I still feel like I missed a whole year of my oldest daughter's life when she was 2-3. My son was born (surprise!) with Down syndrome when she was 17 months old and I don't recall much of that next year.
But I did get past it, as I have done with all the other milestones, and you will as well. Times ahead are wonderful too. But give yourself a break-- it's ok to be sad. I must admit I yearn for the baby years once in a while myself. Then I remember that I don't have to get a sitter to run out and get milk.
I don't know if that makes you feel better but I hope just hearing from others does the trick.
damn I know that feeling. I actually felt guilty getting pregnant knowing that I would wake up a year later wondering where the time went.
Cakes is fine and now she has a brother to share her life. It's the moms who are all wracked with guilt.
There is something about this time of year too, Ks august birthday doesn't rattle me nearly as much bc it is in the lazy days of august. But end of school year is a time of big transitions. one of my former students just emailed to tell me he is the valedictorian and that is getting me all choked up. they're not even my kids! but they are my benchmark for when K was born so maybe that's it.
hope you all enjoyed the cupcakes. :)
We did that division of labour thing too - which means that Oliver will always ask for his dad first. In some ways it's good, to not have both kids depend on me. In some ways it's horrible - like I put him second, so he's going to put me second.
But happy birthday wishes, despite all this.
I know exactly how you feel.
happy b-day to cakes
My daughter was 2 1/2 when our youngest was born. I missed a lot of her life in the haze of sleep-deprivation and constant nursing.
My oldest just turned 7. It's really quite insane.
I do think it's true that any transition is harder on us than on them. She's still your baby, though, you know? She'll always be your baby, even at 25.
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