"Mama, can you stay and cuddle just a little bit longer?"
They're words often spoken but also words I know I won't hear for much longer - relative to what I hope will be a long life.
Already, P. is spending more of her time playing independently instead of wandering through the house calling out, "Does anyone want to play with me?"
She goes to drop off playdates and birthday parties. She's starting kindergarten in the fall. She knows about anglerfish and picks out all her own clothes and wasn't scared at all by the electricity theater at the Museum of Science.
There will come a time in the not so distant future where she won't wrap her soft arms around me and ask for just a few more minutes of cuddles. Just one more chapter. One more song.
But I'll be damned if I'm going to cry about it.
Someday something will come along to replace the cuddles. Maybe a shared hobby or just simple conversation.
So I need to remind myself that while there are some things we will likely leave behind the connection will still be there.
More than that I need to look forward to that altered connection, which will be longer lived than the cuddles or the story time or the songs we sang together after lights out.
It's something to remember, mamas, when you're mourning or missing a life stage left behind. There is always more goodness yet to come!