"Yes" Baby!

Our trip to the gym began like every other. My “Yes baby” was all smiles and giggles with her little feet hanging over her car seat buckled in tight. “Do you want to go play with your friends, Nug?” “Yesth.” “Are you excited to see Aaron?” “Yesth.” “Are you happy today?” “Yesth.” “Do you love momma?” “Yesth.” “Are you a stinker?” “Yesth.” “He-He yes, yes, you are, momma tricked you!!”

“You have such a beautiful daughter,” a soft voice whispered over the chaos of changing a poopy diaper in the women’s locker room. Huh? I looked up from the bum I just cleaned to find the kind eyes of a sweet old lady smiling at me. I buttoned the snap on her blue jeans and looked up at my daughter. It was near evening time and her clothes had an embarrassing amount of food stained to them, she had picked her socks for the day and insisted they not match (this new “me-do” freedom is a whole new story), along with a lovely design of chocolate face and dried boogers. This elderly lady looked right past all of it and said, “She is so lovely dear, it goes so fast you know.”

I could see it in her eyes that she was thinking back before the days of likely grown grandchildren. It was as though she took my hand through her own fairytale 50+ years ago. I swear I could almost see her children’s images myself. “Enjoy every minute, they grow up so fast” she prompted as Boo waved goodbye.

Before I became a momma, while my sweet baby girl was just a beat in my heart, “everyone” always said it will go so fast once the time comes. I have heard this same phrase plenty of times since then, but as we walked to the car, baby in arms, this elderly lady’s words lingered with me longer and a little plague hung from my heart, “they grow up so fast.”

I knew exactly what “everyone” had been talking about. Where had the time gone? It felt like just yesterday she was swaddled up tight with that precious new baby smell and now here we are 18 months later. Truth is I have been there for every milestone, all of it, having the blessing of being a 95% stay at home mom with the privilege of watching her grow up day to day. But with this privilege, I have found if I am not careful, there is a special kind of guilt that creeps into my heart. It is simply being home with my baby every step of the way, but not actually being present every step of the way…. Having to tell your one year old that you are too busy right now cleaning/cooking/paying bills and that you just don’t have time to play. Should I stop to play for what seems like a moment and bypass the guilt of saying, “no?” Surely those few moment would end in hours of playtime and memories and replace all the days’ productivity of folded clothes in laundry baskets and a kitchen lingering with the scent of pinesol.

Trust me. I can imagine few things that bring me more shame than avoiding my own baby girl, like avoiding the lady selling hand cream at the mall kiosk.

Oh no, I accidently made eye contact while putting the dishes away. Please baby, please don’t come grab momma’s hand to go “yowe-yide” I still have so much work to do.

At times like these, I wish being a stay at home momma was just as all the lazy-sit on your butts- preconceived notions suggest it is, but honestly… celebrating every triumph and crying over scraped knees with her also comes the fear of watching her childhood flash right before my eyes. The horror that I may miss something crucial. That 50 years from now I will be the little old lady warning other young momma’s to “enjoy every minute” while wishing I could do it all over again. I make up for long busy days with ice cream before bedtime and extra-long snuggles with “one more story” 18 times later. As she drifts to sleep I promise myself tomorrow will be different, that I will get it right and make time for “yowe yide” and playing babies. I will be silly and carefree and let the dishes pile up and the laundry stay undone… and then tomorrow comes and I start all over again. But you know what?

If you were to ask my daughter if I am a good momma she would say, “yesth.” If you were to ask her if she is happy, she would again say, “yesth.” And if you were to ask my most precious little girl if she loves her momma I am 100% certain she would say, “yesth!”

That little girl knows I love her. She thinks I am the greatest thing since the last slice of cheese she ate. To her I am the world. Because even in the chaos of the day there was that one special snack, or that one special laugh, or that last push on the swing “yowe-yide,” or just the conversation of what’s on her heart even though her vocabulary doesn’t permit I understand. One day she will wish I wasn’t so hard on myself. She will remember me being silly and fun, but she will also remember me on my hands and knees washing floors. She will recognize the smell of pinesol and it will remind her of home, she will remember having a clean kitchen and counting the wrinkles in my hands from all the soapy water. She will remember the smell of my shirt from the times we snuggle before bed. She will know responsibility. While most hours of the day I’m a frazzled mess always playing referee and keeping glass bottles from shattering, I thank god every day for my little “Yesth” baby. She is that constant reassurance in my life, positive thoughts and believing in myself sink so much deeper into my heart effecting who I am more than I could have ever realized on my own, she is grace. No there is nothing I can do to keep it from going by so fast, but one thing is for certain, she will always remember that I was there every step of the way with her.  She will remember what real life is made of and she will make a good momma one day… a momma just like me… and guess who taught me???