baby girl

I hosted a playgroup at my house today, and Kennedy was the oldest baby there by a month.  She was Godzilla Baby.  Grabbing faces, playing the drums on a baby's bald head (slightly sad I had to stop that one), stealing toys: it was a crazy time.

 I look at her and I still see a baby.  My baby.  My sweet girl.  But we're in a whole new place now.  The only time she's a peaceful, innocent snuggler is when she's asleep.  The rest of the day she is all over the place from the moment she wakes up.  Crawling from toy to toy, pulling herself up on everything, shaking her rattles as hard as she can, eating everything; even when I nurse her she's pulling my hair, grabbing straps, whacking my chest.

This crazy time is so much fun.  Kennedy truly enjoys things that we do together.  She laughs and giggles with an innocent, completely un-jaded joy that slays me.

I started this post wanting to communicate how heavy my heart was over Kennedy growing up.  How I feel like I've already forgotten too many moments, too many things.  How I haven't taken enough pictures and videos, and how I wish I could go back in time and hold my sweet newborn in my arms again, just to see how small she was.  Becoming a mother has made me fear time like I never did before.  I think about the future, how close it is, and it frightens me.  Slow down.  Lord, let me live every second I have left with purpose, with intention.  Amen.