Last night, you had a hard time going to sleep. As I sat by your bedside in the hush of the night and sang to you, my heart was filled with peace. Though you should've been asleep hours before - and you interrupted my nightly routine of internet browsing, television watching, and random chores - there was nowhere I would have rather been.
I sang "I Am a Child of God" to you - your favorite bedtime song. In the glow of the nightlight, you didn't look like my somewhat sassy and independent two-year-old girl. You looked like my wide-eyed eight month old again - no teeth, chubby cheeks, and bright eyes. You gathered a tendril of my long hair in your dexterous little hand and rubbed it softly against your cheek.
And I fell in love with you all over again.
I teared up then, wondering where my baby had gone. Time flies so swiftly. Too swiftly. And I felt so guilty about the my feelings at the day's seemingly exasperated events - two little hands into everything, one small little voice insisting "I do it!" for every activity, and the constant plea of "Up, up, up!"
How I longed for these moments...not just the quiet ones singing you to sleep, but the messes, the tantrums, the growing pains.
I love you, darling. I love being your mother. Yet I have one small favor to ask of you, sweet Jocelyn. Would you do just one thing for Mommy? You are growing too fast. Please slow down.
Forever and Always,