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Thursday, January 15

Can I Do The Past Month Over Again?

You know how everyone always talks about how children grow up too quickly; one minute you're changing their diapers the next they're off to college? Well...Lucy isn't off to college or anything (I bet she's smart, but not that smart) yet I can assure you that those sentiments are absolutely dead on. You see, the calendar tells me that Lucy is one month old today.

The calendar lies.

The calendar must be lying, right?

Please tell me the calendar is lying.

One month? Already!? Say it ain't so! She's grown almost 2 inches and has passed the eight pound mark. She is most certainly growing too quickly. I've willed her to stop. I've told her to stop. I've even begged her to stop. "Slow down" I say, "take your time!"

She isn't listening.

Despite my displeasure at how speedily she's changing, the past month has been wonderful, beautiful, educational, miraculous, and any number of other positive adjectives. But two thoughts in particular keep coming back to me: my mother, and my birthday.

When I look at my baby girl I think of my mom doing the same. When I think about how much I love this little fussy bug (her most recent nick-name) I'm awed knowing my mother loves me that much (and how incredibly patient a woman she is because I was most certainly a bigger fussy bug than Lucy*). Knowing my mother will be reading this I would just like to say: Mom, I love you. Thank you for loving me that much.


My birthday has always been a big deal to me, really big. It didn't always turn out how I'd like (being sick on your birthday is no fun, just FYI) but that never stopped me from having high hopes that each birthday would be awesome. As I've gotten a little older I've had somewhat more realistic expectations for my birthday. But this year, I'm not sure how exited I will be when December 5th rolls around.

You see, I learned something in the past month. December 5th isn't my birthday.

My birthday is December 15th.

December 15th is the day I was "born" as a mother. My life changed that day. It became a brand new life. But more importantly, I changed that day. I became a brand new person. I've been amazed at times by the changes in myself. I'm finding pools of patience, confidence, discipline, selflessness, and love within me that I don't think were there before. Maybe part of that is a result of labor and childbirth. As my doula put it on our final visit "once you go do that you can do anything." But it seems like something more, something magical. I'm not the same Holly I was. I'm Holly 2.0. And I was born December 15th, 2008.

Which means when I hit forty I'll actually only be seventeen. ;)

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*I, the baby who would not sleep unless in a swing and swinging...and it wasn't one of those battery operated swings like the one I have the luxury of owning.

2 Stubborn Stains:

The Masked Mommy said...

Everything you said about them getting big too fast is so true! My youngest is 10 months old, and just this week he started saying "Dada". I'm not ready for that yet! He better never walk! haha!

CrystalHW said...

Just wait. . . it never stops, and in some ways gets worse! It hit me today that Sam will be in Nursery this time next year. She is in the bigger kids section of Nursery now...already!!

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