Julianna is my baby. I don’t know for sure or for certain if she’s last baby or not, but she’s my baby NOW and I’m not ready for her to grow up. I’ll also freely concede that I’m
massively a touch hormonal at the moment. That being said – I’m not even a little bit prepared for her to suddenly morph into a little kid. She’s a baby, dammit. Perhaps, a toddler. But an all the way grown up little kid, nope. Sorry. She’s just barely two years old.
And she’s peeing in the potty. And pooping in the potty. And hopping in the bathtub like it’s fun, letting me put her hair in pretties and wearing sundresses – and I’m lost. Where is my baby? Where is the baby I had to coax into a stand up bath in the sink and chase down the hall with a hairbrush to get her hair done? Where is the little baby who refused to wear any kind of dress, or anything other than the leggings and shirts she’d been wearing all winter long? When did she get so big?
Why is she suddenly all rational and happy about her piggy tails and picking out dresses and wearing underwear? I feel like she suddenly hit all these milestones in a week and a half and I’m NOT READY. Jessie was easily three and a half before potty training, and Sam was closer to four. But this girl is so much earlier, and so hell bent on doing it, I can’t keep up. I’m doing all the right things, I got her the potty and the underwear and I encourage and praise, but inside, I’m looking back and wondering where my baby went.
I know I’ll be happy about this soon – because truly, she’s awesome and amazing and so much fun to watch. She’s counting to twelve, and singing all the time. She’s growing up and it’s beautiful. Just as beautiful and stunning as it was to watch her older sister do it, and her big brother.
But today – combined with my beautiful Jessie, who’s reading People Magazine and actually enjoying and and my Samilicious Boy, who solemnly told me last night “You know, Mama, next I’ll be seven,” – today, the fact that my little baby Julianna Ruth is becoming my big girl Julianna Ruth – to quote Julie’s favorite book “is too much” for poor Mama.
I’m indulging in tears and chocolate today.