They Grow Up So Fast...

Our baby grew up overnight on the night of her first birthday.

Little L drank her last bottle of formula on the eve of her first birthday.  As a result, she would switch to oat milk for her early morning feeding on the day of her birthday.  She was in the habit of waking up sometime between 3 am and 5 am for a milk feeding.  She’d then go back to sleep until waking up for the day.  As our last baby, I didn’t really mind indulging her in this last bit of night-waking because I knew it would be over soon.  I had started strategizing in my mind how we were going to wean her from this feeding but wasn’t in a rush to implement my ideas.  

And then it happened.  

I offered her the oat milk in the morning and she wasn’t interested.  Since we had no formula to offer, I put her back in bed.  She fussed a bit and then went back to sleep.  She fussed again for milk 30 to 40 minutes later.  I offered.  She refused. We repeated this a couple times.  Then she woke for the day.

The next morning, I anticipated the same struggle with her.  And it didn’t happen.  She didn’t even wake up. She slept right through.  

I was stunned.  That was it?  She didn’t need me to help her any more?  

Don’t get me wrong.  I was thrilled at the idea of sleeping through the morning, but she didn’t need me?  She didn’t even need a “process” to wean?  A week later, the shock is still wearing off.

Today, we purged our bottle drawer of all the things we no longer need: spare pump parts, storage bottles, baby bottles, our bottle drying rack and our special bottle-washing bin.  In some ways, we were removing evidence of Little L’s babyhood.  Now that she’s moving on to the next stage, we just don’t need it anymore.  

As J packed away our bottle-washing bin, he asked, “Do you feel sad about getting rid of this stuff?”

I, of course, said no.  Then J reported that he did actually feel a little sad.  He remembered obtaining that bin in the hospital and bringing it home with us four years ago.  

This is about the time that someone inevitably chimes in and says, “They grow up so fast.  Enjoy every moment.”  Simultaneously, my inner eyes roll and my heart aches.

All at once, it seems that time is flying by and going extremely slow.  It’s so easy to look back on Little L’s first year and feel nostalgic about her baby time.  But it’s also easy to jump out of my skin in joy that she’s becoming more independent.

Very slowly, we’re molting out of this phase of our lives.  As the kids grow and as we leave behind these baby years, we grow into the next part of our (and their) lives.  As much as we may want to cling to the great, snuggly parts of the past, it’s important to remember that not all of the moments were snuggly moments.  

It’s so easy to want to cling to the old and familiar, but like that molting snake, we need to grow into what is naturally next.  The crazy thing about all of this is that even though what is behind us is familiar and had it’s awesome aspects, what lies ahead, although different, will have its own awesome (and possibly better) aspects.   All of their baby cuteness will turn into toddler cuteness.  And as the challenges increase, so will the rewards.  

For Little L, we’re leaving behind her desire to be held all the time to move on to walking.  What I will lose in cuddles, I will gain in her increasing independence.  The challenge will be in corralling her, but the bonus will be watching her try to keep up with her brother and sister and observing her exploring the wider world available to her when she uses her own feet.  

Although Little L will always be our baby, she is no longer a baby.  It seemed to happen so abruptly and carries so many mixed feelings from each of us.   But this is it!  This is living!  We are constantly moving on from phase to phase, each with its mixed bag of experiences.  Recognizing this pattern has really eased the transition from one phase to the next and has kept me looking for those little bonuses at each phase as these tiny people develop before our eyes!