Tomorrow... tomorrow you will be a half year old and I will probably hold you too tight, cry like a crazy person, carry you everywhere, and sleep with my nose deep in the fat folds of your neck to get a better whiff of your fat baby scent... That toxic concoction of breast milk, sweat, and Johnson's baby lotion that make the bewbs explode and my hormones rush with wants of babies, babies, and more babies please!!!
You are such a big girl now sitting up by yourself and jibber jabbering to anyone with an ear to lend. My heart breaks at the thought of you thwarting my advances of kisses one day, such as your big brother does now... but for now, I love how you rest your head on my shoulder and pat my face when you're cuddly and tired. I love the big happy googly eyes you give to your brother when he's ignoring you, because that boy? That boy hung the moon and you want the whole world to know it. I love how when you see bewbs in your face and you've been screaming to nurse that you giggle. I love how you reeeeeeach for the cereal bowl and spoon when you think Daddy's not looking (and he's obviously not feeding you fast enough!) I love how you attack your wash cloth when I try to wash under your big fat baby chin. Most of all, I love you. you're my big baby, my princess ruffle butt, my Lillie Rae of sunshine and I love you with all my Mama heart.
Hard to believe I wrote that 2 and a half years ago. Again, why do they have to grow up? Why can't I have about five more of these hidden in my pocket to nibble on and cuddle? Somebody lend me a baby, mine's not a baby anymore (or so she told me last night.)