We have twenty-three days left with our baby before he
jumps leaps into toddlerhood.
The only reason I know the number is because I’m crying on the inside every day that number gets smaller and smaller. (What is it about time and age that can be a thief of joy?)
Where has this past year gone?
I remember as a child, having to go to school every day and it was the looooongest 9 months ever. Now as an adult, I blink and a year is gone. 😩
17 more years of memories to make with my baby. *cue the flood of tears now…that’s basically just 17 more blinks*
I’ve been trying to slow down these last few days and cherish all the things my baby does and still needs me to do.
I had to leave during church service today to get him from nursery (his number went up on the board🙄) because he was hysterical. I was taken back when the volunteer said “you’re irreplaceable. He just needs you.”
*open up the floodgates*
He does still need me.
Even as he’s growing up.
Even when he’s no longer a “baby”.
He will still always be my baby.
I keep saying it over and over in my head. There is comfort in that.
He still needs me to cut up his food, and fill up his water cup, and help him stand up, and help him get to his potty when he’s gotta go, and put him in his crib and quiet him when he’s hysterical and teach him about Jesus.
He still likes to rock with me. He still likes it when I pat his bottom. He still loves his bottle before bed. He still rests his hand on my hand when we are cuddling. He still (sometimes) falls asleep on me (and that’s when I want to freeze time!)
He’s still my baby.
And as much as I want him to grow up and experience life and change the world, I’m begging God to slow time down, so I can enjoy those sweet, slobbery kisses and precious cuddles a little longer.
God used this little boy to teach me patience (when I’m at my wits end), understanding (when I have seriously NO clue how to make him happy), trust (because without that, I’d be a hopeless, crazy mess), constant prayer (because sometimes talking to God all day (and all night!) is the only way to feel peace and joy), and how to be strong (especially in my relationship with God–because when I’m a tired, blubbering mess on the inside–He gives me strength to speak words of love and grace when I want to cry and scream.)
I will cherish these next twenty-three days. I will cherish the next twenty-three years. I will stop letting time be a thief of joy and enjoy this child God entrusted to me to love, teach, and bring up for His Kingdom.
And I’ll never forget (especially on the bad days) that I AM IRREPLACEABLE.
To all of you moms AND dads out there–YOU ARE IRREPLACEABLE.
Happy Fathers Day, dads. Thank you for ALLL you do. (Especially helping us moms stay sane!)