That title comes from some hippy dippy 60s book type thing my sister had. It was a little book called Happiness is... with this cute little girl who showed what happiness is (or is that was?) I loved that little funny orange book and I used to sneak into her room to just look at the pictures and contemplate what Happiness is...
The other day I was standing the kitchen holding Miss Pancake. Holding her tight because she was not feeling well from the latest virus making its rounds in our town. She had this tiny little cough that just broke my heart. I was holding her partly because I can and partly because she was not feeling great and really just wanted to be held. I could hear K and M playing, giggling, yelling in the yard below. The weather has been lovely, cool and sunny. Just the perfect early fall weather that I love. I had my nose buried in Miss P's hair. I was gazing out the window at the early evening light, the late summer green of the trees and I put my hand on her head to steady her still wobbly head.
I was startled by the thought that 'my god I will never be able to hold my daughter's head in my hand again one day soon'. I can barely pick M up these days. He is huge, 40 lbs of stocky boy. Miss P is getting bigger with each passing moment. The time is flying! I am half way through maternity leave, she is suddenly six weeks old. She has outgrown a clothing size and a diaper size. She can almost hold her head steady, she can smile and coo and stares at me with these dazzling eyes. She is still small enough that I do not get tired physically from holding her.
I relished that moment in the kitchen listening to my boys playing games in the yard below while I held my wee tiny baby girl in my arms because it was wonderful and will not last forever. There will be plenty of new and wonderful moments to come I am sure but I just want to hang on to that one early fall afternoon before it escapes my memory, before other memories might replace it, before my wee tiny baby girl turns into a big girl before my very eyes.