I am oscillating between ecstatic and mournful over this fact. Ecstatic because I can’t wait for this little one to finally, consistently sleep “through the night” (whatever that means). Ecstatic because she is starting to smile… On very rare occasions and usually for daddy. She’s also starting to coo. Ecstatic because that means she might start laughing soon… Or holding her head up all the time… Enjoying tummy time (rather than screaming with frustration).. and all those beautiful mile stones. I swear, sometimes when she’s asleep I can see what she will look like at age 6.
However, with this ecstasy comes the knowledge that my little baby won’t be so little any more. She’s already starting to out grow many of her newborn clothes. I feel guilty for not savoring every screaming moment, every time she wakes up before I’m ready for her to, every poppy diaper. But I am reminded of a blog I read recently. She said to savor the moments, but you don’t have to love every second of it. Most people find that they don’t love parenting. They love having parented. It’s the time between and the looking back that really make those moments special.