The Last Time

A long time ago, before having kids, my mom and I had a conversation about ‘the last time.’  She explained how as parents, we document all of our children’s first. First tooth, first step, first bath, first words, first haircut, but as a mother she wishes she could remember all of the ‘lasts.’  The problem is, we never know when the moment will be the last.

When my youngest brother was little, he consistently mispronounced words.  As his sixteen year old sister, this drove me crazy.  I would constantly correct him when he said “Psghetti” instead of spaghetti and “liberry” instead of library.  Having had four children, three already well into their teenage years, my mom recognized a fleeting moment when she saw one and would scold me as I correctly pronounced the word for him.  “Someday, he will say it correctly on his own. For now, let me enjoy liberry and psghetti. You never know when he won’t say it like that anymore.”

Sorry Mom, but I didn’t really get it until I had babies of my own.

The night before Lily’s first birthday, I rocked her to sleep in her nursery, clutching to her little body for dear life.  As I listened to her soft breathing I cried as the realization hit me, this was the last time I would rock my infant baby girl. Tomorrow, she would become a toddler.  Sure, I would continue to rock her and in the future I would have more babies to rock to sleep, but the reality was, this was the last night she would be a baby.   (Side note: Charlotte will be one years old in less than twelve days and I know I can expect a few tears on January 26th).

I will remember that night for the rest of my life. It was one of the only times I can actually say I remember the “last time.”  I don’t remember the last time Lily said “Aya” instead of “What’s that?” or the last time she stuck food on her head to show she was done eating. I don’t remember the last time Charlotte spent the night sleeping in my arms (because she refused the crib) or the last time she let me feed her baby food, but I desperately wish I could.  I wish I could bottle up all of the ‘last time’ moments and sneak a peek at them whenever I’m having a ‘when did my baby get so big?’ moment.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the everyday moments and overlook the little things, but someday those little things (and those little ones) will be a distant memory, making way for bigger, better, and older things. Someday Lily won’t let me put her hair in pig tails and someday Charley won’t squeal with delight as kiss her toes (heck, someday I won’t want to kiss her toes!).  Right now, these events feel natural, something that is engrained in our everyday life.  But before I know it, they will have a ‘last time’ and I likely won’t even know it, until the moment has passed and it’s too late to soak in every last second.

Over-dramatic?  Maybe, but it’s the truth.