An Open Letter to My Baby-Tot

Dear Little Z,

Today I held a crying you in my arms mid-nap, and gently bounced until you fell asleep and my left arm almost fell off.  When I set you back down in your crib, you woke up and cried again, and so, we started over.  I gently jiggled you until you fell asleep, set you down in your crib, where upon you commenced crying.  This time, I slipped out of your room, determined to give a tired, runny-nosed you a few minutes to fall back asleep in your crib, the alternative being the involuntary amputation of my dead left arm where your head much preferred to rest.

Alas, you did finally fall back asleep to resume your mid-afternoon nap, much to the pleasure of my now very tired left arm.

You are 15 months and 2.5 weeks old on this gloomy, October afternoon in Colorado.  The year is 2012.

One day, October, 2012 will feel like a long time ago to you.  Much as 1984 feels a world away to me.  I was your age in 1984, and I’ll be darned if I remember a thing about it.  I’ll bet it feels like yesterday to my mom and dad.

When I’m in the thick of jiggling a tired little you down to your nap in the hopes that I’ll have a few more minutes during which to eat my lunch, and you’ll have more minutes to get the rest you need, it can be hard to remember how fleeting this time is.  But today, as I fantasized about my hot lunch whilst jiggling you, I was painfully aware that you are getting too big to jiggle.

It makes me sad to think that your baby year is already over.  Of course I am excited about the person you are becoming, but I wish someone would’ve told me how quickly this time goes.  Wait, people say that all the time, don’t they?

There is something about this second year of your life.  I’m realizing more every day how incredible, important, and quick this time in our lives is. This time of parenting a small child is fleeting…unless I was to have many children (I met a woman on her 9th over the weekend!), which is NOT in the plan, I’m afraid.

It’s hard to believe that one day you will most certainly be too big for me to jiggle.  The joy that your little baby (tot) self brings me when you laugh, or spontaneously throw your arms around me in a hug, or when you open your toothy little mouth for a kiss (you still haven’t figured that one out yet) is indescribable.

I know that you will always bring me joy.  It’s hard to imagine that the joy you’ll bring tomorrow will be at once more complicated and rich.  But it will be.  Tomorrow is coming all too quickly, and, while I look forward to it, I still relish these days of unabashed, unfettered toddlerhood.

Here’s to yesterday, today, and tomorrow.


Your Loving Mother


  1. Mom says:

    Can’t explain how my heart aches and relishes this time in your life. I do so remember holding you and wondering when my arm would fall off. Steaming you in the bathroom because you had croop. You never forget those moments of unabashed love given so freely from your little one …. and then one day, they have a little one. tears of joy. Love you so much Sweetheart.

    • jessiea says:

      Yep, I often think of you and how it wasn’t that long ago (and yet it seems ages ago to me) that you were doing this. Buying $.45 cans of tuna at the same ol’ Kind Soopers :) .

  2. Ona Williams says:

    Been there, done that with 2 children and even though it’s new to you, believe me all moms have had the feeling their arm will fall off. I love reading your blogs because it brings back so many memories for me that I might have forgotten otherwise.
    Parenthood, how can it be the same for everyone and yet so individually different when it’s your own child.
    I love mom’s comments also. But didn’t she feel both arms were falling off?
    Aunt Ona

    • jessiea says:

      That is SO true. The same yet different. Thank you for reading- it means the world to me and makes documenting all of this worth it. And yes, BOTH arms!

  3. Deb says:

    I feel you! My little boy is 10 months already… 10 months and 12 days, to be exact. Sometimes (often) at night, I just cry myself to sleep because I love him so much. Maybe that makes sense to you.

  4. Linda says:

    Good for you to cherish this time. My youngest is 4 now and I find myself celebrating the fact that there are no more infants…. I’m just in a different season now. The time sure does fly, that’s for sure!

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