Sometimes I find myself treating your littleness like a burden. It happens when I’m doing the dishes and you won’t stop crying or when you won’t nap without being held. The thoughts that cause me to wish you were just a tad bit older creep in when I’m cleaning up yet another mess from dinner that was flung everywhere, struggling to understand what you want in the middle of your breakdowns, or feeling overwhelmed from the responsibility of everything about being a tiny humans mama. I try to catch myself when these thoughts creep in. I try to remind myself that one day you will be bigger, and while that may make some things easier, I’m not ready.

Right now, in your littleness, your world revolves around your mama and daddy. You look to us for all of the answers. We are who you seek out when you’re excited, devastated, hurting, nervous, fearless, and everything in between. Sometimes the responsibility of being like the sun for someone is overwhelming. I find myself constantly questioning whether or not I’m burning bright enough for you, asking myself how I could possibly provide you with enough light when most days I feel like I barely have any for myself. Your littleness can be draining. Your littleness can be so totally exhausting. Your littleness can sometimes feel never-ending. In the thick of it, I remind myself that this stage of your life will not last forever. The fact is, one day you will be bigger, and that is a blessing and a curse all in one.

One day when you’re bigger, I will be able to cook dinner without any interruptions.

One day when you’re bigger, you won’t need me to lay with you to fall asleep.

One day when you’re bigger, I’ll be able to go to the bathroom alone again.

One day when you’re bigger, I won’t have to guess at what you want or need because you will be able to tell me.

One day when you’re bigger, the messes will be smaller.

One day when you’re bigger, I know I’ll become more like the moon. I will no longer be the center of your universe, and while I know this is a good and necessary step, I’m not ready. Soon enough, instead of running full force into my arms you will be trying to prove that you can handle this life on your own. My biggest hope is that I can instill the proper values within you to make that happen.

Right now, your littleness can be overwhelming. You need me so much, but if I’m being honest, I need you just as much as you need me. The same things that can sometimes put a tremendous weight on my shoulders are also the things that keep me going. You cry for me, and I know I bring you comfort. You want to imitate my every step, and I know in your eyes, I’m someone to look up to. You look to me to make you laugh, and I know I bring you joy.

One day when you’re bigger, you will learn how to do these things for yourself.

One day, you will be self-sufficient. Dinner with your mama will become an occasional event instead of a nightly one. You will be able to pick yourself up when you fall instead of waiting for me to do it. Most conversations will take place via telephone instead of up-close with a sticky face and fingers.

One day when you’re bigger, I will miss your littleness fiercely.

Today, I will revel in being your sun. I will soak in your littleness, even if every second isn’t enjoyable. One day when you’re bigger, I will long for the little boy with the sticky face begging for chocolate milk, so while I have him, I’m going to hold him tight.