I didn’t think to remember; I didn’t think I’d forget

Watching my second child growing up sometimes feels like reading through an old journal that I haven’t seen for a long time. There are the moments I remember vividly (where did that cursed $10 bill go?), and there are the events I had completely forgotten until I read them again (I can’t believe I ever thought those purple jeans were fashionable). And then I wonder how I could have forgotten them in the first place (because, really, bright purple jeans? Really?).

So when I sat on the carpet, watching Addra struggling to roll herself from her back to her stomach, I smiled to remember Coriel going through the same thing. I knew what to expect as she squirmed and twisted. And I felt the same sense of excitement when I walked back into the room one day to discover that Addra was no longer on her back, but was instead high centered on her tummy (and growing frustrated, I might add, to be stuck there).

But every new smile has taken me by surprise. I had no idea that I would ever forget what it felt like to lose that newborn, toothless smile and discover two tiny bottom teeth. I loved the new smile, but Addra would never look at me and smile that bright, gummy smile again. And I missed it. I couldn’t believe that such a poignant moment in my first child’s development would disappear entirely from my memory until I experienced it again with my second. I wished I had taken more pictures. I wished to capture it forever.

And then, again, as her top teeth appeared, her smile changed again, and it took my breath away just knowing that another stage of babyhood was gone, to be replaced with something still wonderful but distinctly different.

Then there are the differences, things that I don’t think Coriel ever did—or if she did, those moments have receded so far from my memory that to me they no longer exist. Like the way Addra has only just mastered crawling but seems already bored with it. I see her trying passionately to push or pull herself up to standing, as if to say, “Enough with this crawling business. I see where the real action is.”

I know it will still take time, but I suspect she will be walking far sooner than Coriel did. Coriel seemed more content to observe; Addra wants to act.

I have never felt any particular need for the presence of babies in my life. I love my children, and I will happily play with other people’s kids,* but I have never experienced that phenomenon called “baby hungry.” So it comes as a surprise to me, this nostalgia for my children’s babyhood. The way it aches when I watch time pass and I know that Addra or Coriel will never pass through this phase again.

The latest smile, including a total of six teethies.

On the other hand, I’m pretty sure there are some things I won’t miss. Changing diapers? No. Answering the same question fifteen times in a row? Probably not. Having to watch Scooby-Doo and the Ghoul School every day for weeks on end? Emphatically not. Growing up definitely has its benefits.

I just hope I remember the important things.

*Yes, I realize this is shocking considering the years and years in which I would not even hold a baby, much less play with one. I guess I’ve grown up a bit too.