I will miss you. I will miss who you are today as your little eight month old self. Tomorrow you won’t be the same. I will miss THIS you.
With every stage you will become better and stronger and more independent and easier to care for. But I will always miss the baby version of you. It’s the you that I won’t ever get to experience again. Sure I’ll have pictures and videos and memories. But I won’t be able to kiss your baby cheeks and smell your sweaty little baby hair. You will ask to be held less and less until you are just too big to carry around.
One day you won’t giggle when I change your clothes. You won’t dive into my arms from someone else’s. You won’t pull my hair or climb over me in bed. You won’t be so cuddly and round and kissable.
I won’t be able to swing you around and dance with you in my arms. One day I won’t nurse you. I will miss these days. Oh! And one day you won’t kick your legs with excitement like you do now. Oh how I love it when you do that!
There will never be another baby like you. So I will kiss you more and spin you around and dance with you. I will watch you while you sleep and rock you in my arms a little longer. I will embrace the new you as you change and grow, but I will always miss you as you are today.
I love you,