The beginning of the end

This is probably, most likely (though we make no promises), the last child for Kyler and I. We will be done after this. Done with babies, diapers, carseats, and all of it... eventually.

I'm trying to make my belly as big as possible for this picture

Which means, as I approach this coming baby, I'm excited for all the firsts. The first smile, the first laugh. The first time he sleeps through the night. The first day of school. First tantrum - okay, maybe not so excited for that one...

But I'm also faced with the reality that these firsts will be the last. This will be the last time I feel a baby moving inside me. The last time I cuddle a milk-drunk newborn. The last baby quilt I make for one of my children. The last time I rock a child to sleep, tuck him in, sing a lullaby. Eventually, it will all stop, They will all grow up.

Though maybe not quite as tall as the sauropod leg...

Some lasts are bittersweet. Some are definitely more bitter, and some more sweet, though even the lasts I'm looking forward to, like no more diapers!, also has a downside: no more time spent focused on that one child at the changing table, sometimes wrestling but other times tickling and giggling and singing.

Calista is starting school, real school (kindergarten!) in the fall. Craig may be starting preschool (we'll see, but CRAZY, right?). They are growing up, becoming independent, and leaving me. Slowly at first, obviously, but they are leaving me. This is a good thing. But before I know it, they won't be leaving me for just the morning, but all day. And they'll spend nights away from me. They will go off to college... and I will miss them.

And their cute smiling faces.

It also makes me realize that I need to be more in the moment, most of the time. My email, Facebook, or whatever silly things on my computer will still be there in 10 minutes, or an hour, or tomorrow. Will my child still want me to cuddle, read, play Legos, color, look of pictures of shark bites, or talk to them then? Hopefully yes, at least the last one, forever.

Hopefully they will like each other forever, too.

You’ve got to grind at that grindstone, though childhood slips like sand through a sieve. And all too soon they’ve up and grown, and then they’ve flown, and it’s too late for you to give...

It's not too late for me. It's not too late to enjoy my children, their firsts and their lasts. So, I sit here, while Craig is napping and Calista is at preschool and a baby wiggles inside me, enjoying those wiggles while I still can... and looking forward to when my ribs stop hurting in a few weeks, too.