Peanups.
That’s what she called them for a good year. "Momma, can I has some peanups wif my pretzels?" I would never had remembered it had I not written it down. I found a short list titled “Sadie”. The list had only 4 lines.
Peanups.
Soupcase.
“This is my only chance.”
“It’s no use.”
The moment I read it I was transported back to a chubbier-cheeked, squeakier-voiced version of my now 6 year old and I choked back tears. I had apparently known that I would forget the cute little things she said at 3 years old, and it’s true. I did forget.
Motherhood is like that for me - constant swells in my eyes and lumps in my throat - a marrying of sadness and joy - a bittersweet acknowledgement of what is left in the past, and gratefulness for exactly who my babies are right now.
I do miss those moments… Her bossy little requests, “Momma, get my soupcase down. I’m going somewhere.” (Hopefully you read that with the sweetest, mousiest, lisp only a 3 year old could have.) Her complaint about not getting a treat before nap, “But Momma, this is my ONLY chance!” Her frustrated, “It’s no use,” when her tower fell for the fourth time. 3 year olds are very, very cute.
But, I also realize that it’s a privilege to have more moments with her now. She’s older, and not so chubby or squeaky, but just as precious as she’s ever been. So, that’s my reminder to myself today - Be thankful for the past, but be thankful for today… because every single day we get to love our babies is a gift.
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