A letter to the center of my world…

Dear Baby Girl,

Nine months old today.  Nine months.  Some days it is so hard to imagine my life before you were a part of it and other days it feels like I just brought you home from the hospital yesterday. 

Before you came along, things were mighty different around our house.  I had my job, Daddy had his.  We’d chat about our days once they were over; sometimes over dinner, sometimes as we laid our heads down on the pillow.  I would take quick shopping trips in the evening or swing through happy hour. Daddy would stay at the school until the very last kid had left the weight room. 

Now?  Oh, sweet baby.  Now, we both rush home to see you.  To soak up the few short hours we have with you before you go to bed.  To make funny faces at you, to be silly, to read books.  To watch you pull yourself up on the furniture, both scared that you’ll fall and scared that in a few weeks or months you’ll be walking.  To blow raspberries on your belly, whisper in your ear and teach you to clap.  Where once it seemed like I had all the time in the world, there are now not enough hours in the evenings.

I don’t know why this time has to go so fast.  I don’t know who decided that a mother could blink and her squishy newborn would be a mobile baby.  Your clothes get packed away before you have a chance to wear many of them.  You play with toys a time or two before you’re bored with them.  And, just last week, we lowered your crib mattress.  Which made me cry and your daddy nervous.  (Turns out he was right, because two days later we say you on the monitor reaching for your nightlight.  I’ve never seen him run up the stairs so fast.) 

These moments we get with you in the evenings and the little bit of time we see you in the morning are not enough.  Time is moving too fast.  You are changing at the speed of light.  Inquisitive and curious about everything, you don’t slow down as you discover your world. 

And you are the center of our universe.  You are the person who made us a family and gives both of us something to rush home to. 

I love you, sweet baby.