The other day I picked up my baby girl and noticed that she was a little bigger than the day before. Not fatter or chubbier, just bigger, and a little heavier to carry. Some days I look at her and I see a change in her face. It’s not a big change that I can see, or even something I can put my finger on, but it’s there and it’s different. She’s growing up, little by little, right before my eyes.
She doesn’t have the same newborn look that she had when we buckled her into her car seat for the first time to go home from the hospital. She doesn’t struggle to hold her head up. In fact, she’s becoming an expert at that and at strengthening her abs by trying to sit up by herself. She loves practicing standing as she pushes her feet into my lap. Her eyes get big and wide, and she flaps her arms up and down as she revels in what she’s doing. She grunts and babbles as if to say, “Look at me, mommy! I’m doing it!”
She’s reaching all sorts of milestones lately. Her first walk in a stroller — she slept for the whole walk. Her first train ride to visit my aunt and uncle in Oregon. Her first story time — she sat through four stories without fussing. Her first tear-free bath, and now we’re on to bathing with smiles. The first time she had a bath, you couldn’t convince me that she would enjoy them one day. Now it’s hard to believe she ever didn’t.
She’s long passed her first smile and is now a professional smiler, flashing all sorts of cute baby smiles to mom and dad and grandma. Maybe she’s learned that her smile makes us give her a big smile too. And I almost cried when she looked at me in the mirror and smiled when she recognized that it was me. She’s “talking” every waking hour (she gets that from both her mom and her dad). She’s outgrowing her three months clothes and size one diapers, though she’s not even two months old!
I’m happy that she’s growing. She’s happy and healthy, and growing like a weed — a very beautiful weed at that. But if it slowed down just a little bit, I wouldn’t protest.