Nora is doing better. Her throw up is still sore. (that's what she calls her throat). So we give her the tylenol with codeine, and she gets sleepy, and then she climbs onto my lap and falls asleep.
It's adorable and sweet and completely immobilizing. I spent 45 minutes sitting in the office chair, trying to type with one hand because that's where she chose to fall asleep.
It could be the rough nights where she wakes up crying and can only go back to sleep if she squashed up against me, or with my arm around her.
Or it could be the way watching so many hours of tv drains you, even though technically you're doing nothing.
Either way, we're almost over the hump. And though it's been draining on all of us, and I wouldn't want to prolong her agony, I just know I'm going to miss her following me around and asking me to hold her.
As I carried her into her follow up appointment today, with her head on my shoulder and her blankie tucked under my arm, I had a sudden realization that we were about to move beyond this point.
Not just with her throat getting better, but with her life. The independence that comes with growing up, wanting to do things all by yourself. And there comes the day when mommy and daddy are no longer needed every moment. We're still needed, but not in the same way.
So as much as the near constant crying and crabbiness has been around here, I'm actually going to miss it.
What will, or do, you miss about your kids being little?
I'm going to miss getting my hair twirled by little fingers, having my face squished by little noses, and hearing "Good morning Mama!" and a joyful, "Mama!" when I return from being away... even in the other room!
ReplyDeleteI took Keaton to meet his Kindergarten teacher today. What am I going to do without at least one kid at home with me??? I'm going to miss him asking me to cuddle with him and watch "just one show." :-(
ReplyDeleteSounds weird, but I actually miss the way I used to look at them. There is an adoring look I give my babies when the feeling of love just surges and I can barely contain the joy. You know the look? The one that says "You are the most beautiful and perfect child in the whole world and I am so in love with you!" At some point in their growing up, the love changes into something more permanent and the look changes, too. I still love them and still try to see that beautiful, perfect child, but it's different... (Is that bad???)
ReplyDeleteIt's a wise Mom who can recognize the moment she's in and try and smell the roses. Congrats to you!
ReplyDeleteI have been musing about this with my teenaged son lately as I watch him sprout into a new adult. It's a melancholy feeling isn't it?