The inevitable is happening.  My baby girl is growing up, and she's doing it without my permission.  I get all teary-eyed and sentimental realizing that tomorrow my sweet little one will be 6 months old.  Half a year, but she may as well be moving off to college.  How is this happening?!  I was warned left and right that babies do this to their parents everyday.  I thought I believed it before, but now I'm in a horrendous state of denial and it's making my cheeks wet. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that once a moment is gone, it's gone forever?  My little Molli will never be this little two toothed, 14.5 pound, bundle of every emotion possible again.

There is nothing sweeter than the warm weight of a limp baby asleep on my chest.  It's a rare occasion for Molli to be a calm, limp anything, so when I have these cuddly moments I really treasure them.  I want to soak in everything about her at this precious stage.  Her noises and sweet milky baby scent.  Myles even commented the other day that her head smells less like baby and more like hair now.  This might not make sense to anyone who hasn't spent much time holding a baby close, but for anyone who has, this might hit home. Hair; big girl hair. I'm excited to one day comb through and braid Molli's hair, but the thought of this head lacking the baby smell makes my throat tight because it's one of those things that will never come back.

I don't mind change, really.  But this kind of change squeezes my heart and leads me to a lot of sentimental stares.  I get all gooey when I hear the lullaby music we spent so much time listening to when she was a newborn.  I make sure to spend some time each day dedicated to that particular moment.  Contrary to the theme of my last post, I truly do make an effort to ignore the constant nagging in my head to get things done.  The laundry will wait, the dust isn't going to mind sitting there any longer and the table will probably become more cluttered before it gets any better.  All this is inconsequential, I know.  I may feel like a failure for having a messy house, a body I'm not proud of and a serious lack of social interaction... but at the end of the day, I am a mommy.  I'm a mommy who isn't perfect, but who is perfectly in awe of countless blessings.


Remember this?