I hate it when the Internet makes me think.
What’s even worse is when it makes me feel.
This is what happened a couple weeks ago. I was scrolling through Facebook when I came across a link with a Buzzfeedy vibe to it, boasting 27 facts that are sure to blow my mind. Ever the sucker for any article with an odd number assigned to it, I nibbled at the bait.
Two weeks later, I don’t remember any of the facts that the article included in its rundown except one.
There was a time when your parents set you down and then never picked you back up again.
Well, huh. Way to nail me right in the center of my heart, Internet.
Cee is now squarely two and a half years old, a little lady of the world. There have been high and low points during the last five months since we’ve moved and I went back to work. She went through a phase of being painfully shy and intensely wary of anyone other than me, B, and her grandmothers, and for a couple months I was really concerned. “Scarred for life” was a phrase that rattled around in my mind for awhile. But she’s coming out the other side of it and is now enjoying all life has to offer with a zeal that is reserved for us to whom the world is new. Sometimes I’ll come home from work at the end of the day and she and I will go through the bajillion pictures that I took of her when she was a baby. While I know that in the grand scheme of things she is still a baby now, I will have to cock my head a certain way and linger over certain pictures for a moment to identify that the girl who sits in my lap is the same one in the photos.
It’s all moving so fast.
For her entire life, B and I have told her roughly 9,000 times a day how much she is loved. Now, all of a sudden she’s returning that love with kisses and bear hugs. “I’m gonna miss you!,” she’ll call to me when I’m leaving for work in the morning. It breaks my heart in the best possible way to have my affection reciprocated.
There’s give and take to our relationship now. Where a few months ago it was like pulling teeth to get her to stand still long enough for me to give her a quick kiss before bed, she will now put her tiny arms around me in an embrace and linger long enough for me to smell her sweet head. She has empathy and, to some degree, knows that I thrive on her human touch. I love feeling her weight when I pick her up and carry her. It’s the weight of a life I helped create and who is now fully-invested in her glorious surroundings.
And now I’m reminded that there is going to be an inevitable moment when I set her down and never pick her back up again. Either she will become too big or I will become too weak, likely both. It breaks my heart, but if anything it makes me recognize how special this time we’re enjoying right now is.
And, honestly, that my time is better-used holding her than it is reading dumb articles on the Internet.