Dear Reagan,
It is going by too fast. I was warned. “Days will fly by.” “Don’t blink.” “Soak it up because it doesn’t last long.”
While that is all painfully true, no one told me how your whole concept of time transforms when you have a child. Time is no longer measured in duration. It isn’t minutes, hours, and days. Time is measured by moments — and these moments are more sacred than any defined length of time. There are the big moments, the milestones. Your first smile. Your first laugh. The first time you rolled over. The first time you tried solid foods (that face you made is forever etched in my memory). The first time you sat up. . . I always knew about these big moments. I knew you were supposed to put them in the scrapbook, document them. I knew you were supposed to dwell on them, share them, remember them. I knew you weren’t supposed to miss them.
What no one told me about was the purest of bliss found in the little moments, the forgotten ones — the ones you don’t write down, the ones you don’t capture, the ones you don’t recap, the ones you take for granted, the ones you experience every day until one day, without any notice, you don’t.
Today that moment was the 3 seconds when you stopped crying just long enough to laugh after Mommy sneezed this morning.
I know I can’t do anything about the fact that time with march forward. Now will become then. And then will become way back then. I know that I can’t immerse myself in every little moment. I know I can’t remember every laugh or every smile. But I know that I can do better about appreciating them while they happen. And while I long for the past (holding you in my arms for the first time) and look forward to the future (hearing you say “Mama”), the present has never been so beautiful.
To my sweet, smart, adorable, and wonderfully made 5 and a half month old: I love you forever and always no matter what.
Love,
Mom
Van Plus Fam 