Tonight you came running up to me with a huge smile on your face, clapping your hands in pride and delight. For weeks you’ve been putting our shoes on and then struggling to walk in shoes far to big for your little feet. Tonight you were able to put your own pair of rain boots on all by yourself. You were so proud and stomped around for the rest of the evening with such a sense of accomplishment. You then grabbed your new kitty cat purse and literally strutted from room to room, showing off for Sadie and I. There will be many times in your life when a good pair of shoes and a new purse will make you strut and while I smiled and applauded you inside I cried a little bit. It has become very clear to me this weekend that you are no longer any kind of a baby. You are a full-fledged toddler-going-on-kiddo. You’re independent, interested in the world, vocal, assertive and fun. But you are no longer my tiny, dependent doll-baby who loved nothing more than to be rocked and held all day. You still let me snuggle you, but you often push me away and say “No! Stop!” while running in the other direction.

While I revel in your accomplishments, just now, just tonight, I would like to humbly ask you to stop growing.

Please Clare, stop growing and just be my sweet, sassy, cuddly, perfectly-perfectly 16-month-old forever.

OK, I’m done. Now that I’ve put that down I’ll suck it up like the grown-up Mom I’m supposed to be and celebrate that tonight Daddy is teaching you to wash your own hair(!). I’ll delight in your new words and word combinations. I will cheer as you tackle a new skill and try my darndest to steer you straight in an often tilting world. But a tiny, little bitty part of me will feel like that sentence above. However I’ll put that aside and help you grow up. Because that’s what I’m supposed to do and it’s a wonderful thing.

Your very loving Momom.

P.S. The boots are on the wrong feet. Fortunately for me I still have a few tricks of the world to teach you.