Ramblings of a Semi-Crunchy Mama

Ava turned 17 months old on the 26th, and I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the truth that she is growing up and getting older. I won't deny that I enjoy this stage of childhood when little eyes glow at the sight of something new and little feet chase after anything with excitement and purpose, however I miss the coziness of a round, smooth body curled up on my chest and the sight of a milk coma that lasts three hours. The smell of her breath is something I will always take with me, and something I steal a piece of whenever I can. These tender memories of early motherhood are so precious to me. I try often to remember how she looked during those first few weeks, still so new and babyish. I think back to our daily life together - eating, sleeping, staring at the beautiful child that had been created out of love and purpose. Holding, rocking, gazing at her face with the perfect little O shaped mouth.

Ava is 17 months old now, and while she is becoming a typical toddler seeking her independence, she is still a very attached little girl. Holding and rocking and gazing are still every day activities as each day after lunch a tired little princess lays her head on my shoulder, calls out passionately "Elmo? Elmo!" awaiting her beloved snuggly Elmo, and hangs onto mama as we walk to her room and sit in the infamous chair. She snuggles her Elmo under her right arm and nestles her head in my right arm, each leg dangling on either side of my hips. She may whisper a few words or ask me to kiss Elmo a thousand times before her tired eyes give way, but when she does surrender to sleep I'm taken back to those early days again when the world stopped to gaze at her beauty. I study her face - still the same, yet different and I lean in closely to kiss her O shaped mouth and smell her breath. It feels as though our hearts beat the same beat during this quiet time of day, and I feel closer to her than at any other moment.

I know one day Ava will no longer need to "wock" in our special chair every afternoon. One day she will be big and say no to mama's request. My heart will break slightly as I face that reality, but I will always have these memories in my heart. I would not trade anything for holding, rocking, gazing. These are the moments motherhood is made of. I am thankful for now the cycle continues: hold, rock, repeat.