I’m feeling a bit sentimental. My first baby girl – the one who launched me into motherhood – is about to turn four. Four. For some reason, four sounds very, very old to me.
Macy is fiercely independent. She came out of the womb that way. But there are moments when she clings to me that I remember how young and helpless she really is.
Like last night, when I was cooking dinner with Selah in the Ergo and Macy was begging me to be held – Mommy, Mommy, hug! The way she lifted her arms up in the air gave me a lump in my throat.
After dinner was over and the dishes had been cleared, Macy asked again. Mommy – will you hold me in the Ergo?
And so I did. I snuggled that little girl until she was ready to get down.
I’m just not ready for her to grow up yet.