I turn 30 on Wednesday next week. Everyone will ask, “do you feel older?” And in response I’ll say “no” or “yes” just depends on the kind of day. You see, age doesn’t matter to me anymore, however the age of my kids do. I cried on Grafton’s first birthday and even more on his second. Eleanor has already changed so much and she’s only 2 months old. Just last night I watched her roll on to her side. I have to constantly remind myself that I do want them to grow up and not stay this little.

If Grafton were to “stay this little” the first time I said it, I would have missed his first word, “turtle.”

And for Eleanor I would have missed her chunky thighs being squeezed by her newborn clothing.

I would miss Grafton’s first steps on the back porch of our house, the one we bought to raise our kids in.

I would miss Eleanor stretching her long little neck out while doing tummy time. And smiling at me as if to say “I can do it mom.”

I’d never see Grafton fill up his bucket over and over at the beach. And I would have missed the photo of him sun-kissed and passed out on the couch afterwards.

I’d never see Eleanor reach up and squeeze my fingers or go cross-eyed every time I give her a pacifier.

I’d miss Grafton walking around the room giving everyone a kiss goodnight, including Rhinehart, which makes us laugh every single time. 

I’d miss Eleanor crying in the night until she hears my voice and instantly calms down.

I’d miss Grafton trying his first ice cream cone, or piece of “take.” And then confusing every form of bread for cake from then on out. 

I’d miss Eleanor bucking every time I put her in the bathtub and having to speak in a high pitch tone till she realizes she actually loves it.

I’d never hear Grafton count to 2 at the dinner table and the screams of excitement Garrett and I expressed afterwards.

I’d never hear Eleanor’s babbling as she sits in my lap and tugs on my hair.

I’d never smell sweetgrass and remind Grafton that that’s what Maine smells like, a place he will soon come to love.

Recently I’ve found myself saying “I hope I remember you this little” instead of “stay this little.” As much as we want them to stay small we should want them to grow older more. There are still so many memories to be made, starting today. So go snuggle your kiddos no matter their age. 

I’m going to go throw away the pile of tear-soaked tissues I collected while writing this.