A Farewell to Babes

Today was a bittersweet day in our home. As I was aggravated by the cluttered cupboards and drawers in my kitchen, I realized that there were several types of items that no longer needed a place there. Down came the sippy cups from the cupboard, and out went the bibs and baby spoons from the drawers. In truth, I can't remember the last time Jacob actually used a bib or baby spoon, but his graduation from sippy cups is more recent. Maybe the spoons and bibs continued to hold a place of honor because I could not admit that they were no longer needed. After almost 10 years (if you count the 9 months of collecting these items that preceded the birth of my first child) these well used items are no longer necessary. My "baby" is now a potty-trained verbal little boy who even tried to board a school bus with a backpack in tow this week. He had no fears or qualms about boarding that bus and riding off to whatever adventures he imagined awaited him at school. I can't begrudge the fact that he is growing up. He is so darn cute as he builds towers, car cities, and jungles of animals. I do, however, miss the smell of a freshly bathed newborn and the soft skin and precious sighs that accompany a baby.



Jared has been "done" for quite sometime now and has been patiently waiting for me to accept this as well. It was much harder for me to reach this point. I was the one that could feel every move the tiny babes made inside me. I was the one anxiously and impatiently awaiting the birth (never mind that the impatience was mostly because I was so uncomfortable I was ready to pull the child out myself). I have on occasion described running a half marathon to giving birth. While participating in the event, tt is painful and you think why on earth do people do this? I'm never doing this again! But then its over and days turn to weeks and months and you forget the pain and only remember the incredible feelings of joy and accomplishment. You excitedly start the "training" process again, completely forgetting the thoughts that circulated through your head during the last few miles or pushes. Although, I think that I may give disservice to childbirth with this comparison. At the end of the race you have a t-shirt and maybe a medal but la-de-da-da who really cares? When the childbirth "process" is complete no one hands you a t-shirt or medal (although maybe they should, it could make for some humorous t-shirts, and those would be my most prized medals), instead you are handed a tiny piece of heaven. It is up to you to nurture, care for, guide, and teach this child for the rest of your life.



I was completely in love from our very first little Christmas angel to our bundle of blue whose long awaited birth came a mere hours before what would start one the the worst weeks of my life. My little perfect baby boy helped me to deal with the days to follow without a complete breakdown. There is no comparison to having a tiny baby wrap its entire hand around your pinkie and look into your eyes with her eyes filled with love and trust. Love, because somehow this infant know that you are his mother and trust that you will care for every need. Realizing that tiny baby is completely reliant on you can be a bit overwhelming and incredibly wonderful at the same time.

I was 12 when my littlest brother was born. I spoiled him rotten. I loved being the big sister and "playing" mom with him. We had a special bond and he allowed me to care for him when mom was busy with the middle three children. Still, there comes that time when every baby just wants MOM. It would bother me when all she had to do was pick him up and he'd be happy. Wasn't I holding him before? wasn't that good enough? I no longer begrudge her these moments. There is something satisfying in knowing that sometimes only you will do. When after several attempts by several family members to pacify the little angel to no avail, the crying immediately ceases when placed in mom's arms. No matter how much baby loves Dad, or sister, or grandma, sometimes only Mom will suffice. Dad usually recieved the first true smile out of our babies after a round of silly faces, actions, and noises, but Mom was rewarded by knowing that her love was sought after when comfort was needed. Its hard to always find pleasure in this. When you are exhausted to the core, and overly "touched" sometimes you just want to escape and have a few minutes just to yourself. You don't want to be needed. This in inevitably when the crying will start and only mom will do. I wish I had cherished those moments a little more because they are over so quickly. My snuggle sessions have been reduced to quick hugs or a kiss on a bumped knee on the run from one activity to the next. Although I confess that I did let Jacob nap in my bed today and indulged in a nap myself so that I could hold him close while he slept, savoring the moment before its completely gone.

So it is a little sad as I close the chapter on babies. But it will be fun to move onto family activities that don't center on stroller accessibility, nap and feeding times, and eventually physical limitations of toddlers. I look forward to watching them find their hobbies and talents. It is fun to go shopping and paint nails with the girls. I love watching Jacob play catch and watch football with Jared. If the next 10 years pass as quickly as the last have I will find myself within years of re-entering the baby stage but this time as a Grandma (Tonya and Natalie were both married at 19. Although we hope that Katy doesn't get married quite that young, with 3 girls 4 years apart in age, there is a good chance that within 15 years we will most likely be grandparents or close to it. Scary isn't it?). True, it won't be quite the same but parts will be evenbetter. I won't be in charge of the spills, spit-ups, dirty diapers, and temper-tantrums. I'll miss the special bond between mother and baby, but I'll have the knowledge that as a child ages Grandma becomes much "cooler" than mom. Don't get me wrong, I'm not anxiously looking forward to this stage. I'm in no hurry to have any more gray hair than I already do. I don't want wrinkles or my metabolism to get any slower. I don't want to think about my kids entering middle school, let alone high school or college. But, as I wipe away a stray tear as I box up the bibs and sippy cups, I smile at the knowledge that it will all come full circle. In the mean time I'll have to get my baby fixes by holding other's babies so those moms can take a few deep breaths and relax in a moment of their "me" time. And when the baby starts to cry, I can smile and hand it back to its mother or father knowing there is nothing I can do or am expected to do.