The Baby Of The Family Blues- Every First Is Also The Last

 

I always thought I’d struggle with birthdays and getting older and granted I have a ways to go, but I really thought 30 was going to be tough. I mean, as a kid 30 seemed so old. Perhaps it’s because I was so busy with a newborn and a toddler, but I hardly even noticed my 30th birthday. In fact, most years I really don’t even feel any older. It’s not my birthdays that make me feel old. Blowing out the ever-growing number of candles on my own cake hasn’t really affected me. There is something though that makes me an emotional wreck. Something that I never even thought about before our last child was born. Something that makes me feel old, and yet so full of love and pride. Something that the mere thought of will create a cascading waterfall of both happy and sad tears.

Watching our kiddos grow older is bittersweet…

While I’m proud and fascinated at the people they are becoming, it’s still sad to see them grow up so fast. I remember being a kid and hearing adults talk about how fast time goes and thinking there was no way that was possible. The clock dragged on all day at school, birthdays and Christmases seemed to take forever. But, blink, here I am with kids of my own now eye-rolling me as I tell them how fast time really goes. Their birthdays were always a little emotional, but nothing I couldn’t handle. That was until the baby of our family. Our last kiddo just turned 4 and I’m not going to lie, it was rough. It still is rough. I still get teary-eyed thinking about her birthdays.

Every first is a last and it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be…

It’s not just that she is, therefor I am, getting older. I have an almost teen suddenly a lot more interested in hanging out with friends and talking to girls. He makes me feel old. It’s because every year she celebrates another milestone, it’s the last time. At one, we suddenly were done with infants forever. And in what seemed like a heartbeat, we were done with babies completely. No more diapers, bottles, binkies, or onesies. No more nursing in the low light of the middle of the night. No more watching them scoot, then crawl, then stumble with their first steps. Never again will we have a 2-year-old or a 3-year-old. So, while I am excited to see the big girl she’s becoming and the new things she learns or does each day, every first is a last and it’s a lot harder than I ever thought it would be.

We can’t keep them little forever, so I guess the only way to get through it is to think of all the wonderful moments that are still yet to be discovered. (That and remembering the fact that sleeping more than 2-3 hours at a time is incredible.) While I may not ever feel the overwhelming peace of those first precious skin-on-skin newborn moments, I will feel the overwhelming pride of watching them put on a cap and gown, walk down the aisle, or have kids of their own. As I sit here in tears writing this post (and feel very much like my mother, the one I used to laugh at for crying over everything,) I know there are many more moments to come and that they’ll all always be my babies. If you mamas can relate, I want to tell you it will be okay. I need to say it will be okay and more importantly I need to believe it. It is tough, but as our babies of the family blow out their candles every year, or walk into Kindergarten or even say, “I can do it myself,” it’s okay to cry if you also remember to smile.