Baby Girl is Growing Up
My Little Meems, the snuggliest of the snugglers, is growing up. And by that, I mean she's becoming too mature to snuggle, apparently. She IS almost 8, you know.
Honestly, there once was a time when I looked forward to the day she wouldn't be hanging all over me all the time. That girl's love tank has always been filled through touch, and she seemingly could never get enough. It's not like she was starved for love. But there for a while, she was an extra appendage. I couldn't walk, sit or lie down without her climbing on my lap or climbing into the chair next to me, or insisting I hold her. Or rub her arm. Or scratch her back. Or play with her hair. Or let her play with my hair. She didn't walk until she was almost 16 months because she wanted to be carried. Even her language for asking to be carried implied her need for touch -- she'd throw her little arms up and say "hold you."
But now...well, lately, she shrugs me off when I scoop her up (a tiny thing at only 40 pounds - yes, that's right, she's almost 8) she's pretty easy to scoop up. "Moo-ooom, STO-OPP." The standard extra syllables and a little pop on the "p" sound.
I guess it was inevitable. This is the age her brother was when he first shrugged me off. Of course, he's never been as touchy-feely as his sister. But it was about this time that that shrug meant "I don't have time for this right now."
And that's what hurts the most. They're busy. On the plus side, it means they are turning into their own people, a little more independent of their parents each day. On the minus side, it means they are turning into their own people, a little more independent of their parents each day.
It's both wonderful and heartbreaking. A perfect representation of parenthood, if you ask me.
Honestly, there once was a time when I looked forward to the day she wouldn't be hanging all over me all the time. That girl's love tank has always been filled through touch, and she seemingly could never get enough. It's not like she was starved for love. But there for a while, she was an extra appendage. I couldn't walk, sit or lie down without her climbing on my lap or climbing into the chair next to me, or insisting I hold her. Or rub her arm. Or scratch her back. Or play with her hair. Or let her play with my hair. She didn't walk until she was almost 16 months because she wanted to be carried. Even her language for asking to be carried implied her need for touch -- she'd throw her little arms up and say "hold you."
But now...well, lately, she shrugs me off when I scoop her up (a tiny thing at only 40 pounds - yes, that's right, she's almost 8) she's pretty easy to scoop up. "Moo-ooom, STO-OPP." The standard extra syllables and a little pop on the "p" sound.
I guess it was inevitable. This is the age her brother was when he first shrugged me off. Of course, he's never been as touchy-feely as his sister. But it was about this time that that shrug meant "I don't have time for this right now."
And that's what hurts the most. They're busy. On the plus side, it means they are turning into their own people, a little more independent of their parents each day. On the minus side, it means they are turning into their own people, a little more independent of their parents each day.
It's both wonderful and heartbreaking. A perfect representation of parenthood, if you ask me.
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