She'll always be my baby

I know this drives the older siblings crazy in every family but as a mom, I finally get it.

My youngest daughter is my baby and always will be. Can't change that. The other evening, while she was curled up on the couch watching Disney channel, I sat across from her and just stared. I stared at her face with cheeks that are still a little chubby and perfect, unblemished skin.

I noticed how her hair just is what it is, free from hairspray or straight irons, only lightened naturally by the sun with a few tangles on ends. You see, an hour earlier, I had just finished yet another conversation with my older two girls about hormones and feminine products and all that other fun teenage girl stuff, and so when I looked over and saw my little 8 year old, clutching her pink blankie, dressed in her little monkey pajamas, my heart just melted. I wanted to say out loud, "Will you please just stay 8 years old a little while longer?"

I feel like my house is overwhelmed with talk of boyfriends and Homecoming dresses and class schedules, and it's so refreshing to have someone who still talks to me about the picture they colored or the Lego treehouse they built. There are just so many things I love about her still being little and I know now how fast that'll change. I love the fact that she still runs to greet me when I come home and practically knocks me over with her bear hugs or that she tells me she loves me multiple times a day and I don't have to say it first. I love her goofy little kid smile with two big front teeth and gaps everywhere where teeth are missing because soon enough, that goofy smile will be covered with braces. I love that she's infatuated with all her stuffed animals instead of boys and isn't worried about the hair on her legs or how her nails look. I love that she still wants to play with bath toys and have Dora bubbles, instead of having bottles of special detoxifying face soap and raspberry smelling shaving cream.

I love that she still rides her bike and wants to play outside till dark. I love that I don't have to worry about where she's at and whose she with. There's no one texting her phone at night or sending her inappropriate messages. I love how she's already started working on her Christmas list to Santa, all full of toys. I love how her clothes are still innocent and cheap, and I like how she'll wear any brand of clothes or shoes, no matter where I bought them. I especially love how she writes me special notes and hides them for me to find, or makes me handmade gifts and wraps them up for me as a surprise. All the little kid things that one day just seem to end.

My two older daughters get annoyed that she acts babyish with me or cuddles with me and accuse me of treating her different. Most of the time I try and deny it, and refute their claims that I treat her different, but then I realized that yes, in fact I do treat her different. I can't possibly treat an 8-year-old the same as a 15- or 13-year-old. When she comes and sits with me in the evenings and curls up beside me, I'm going to curl up with her. The most I get from them is barely an air hug at night before bed and that's it. She's the only kid left in the house that actually wants to hug me, so I'm taking it!

I love and appreciate my older girls just as much, and I love the seasons they're in too, as any mother would, but I'm afraid to tell them, that despite their irritations, she'll always be younger so naturally I will always think of her as my baby.

So today, I'm going to enjoy my little girl. She'll be their age soon enough.