Patience Elizabeth's Big- Girl Room

Yesterday I finally finished moving Patience into her big-girl room.  We had to boot her out of the crib to make room for Baby Brother, so the guest room became Patience's big girl room.  Its lovely. We painted the walls a sunny yellow and the four-poster bed and dresser creamy white.  White sheers drift from the windows and the bed is spread with a pastel tulip quilt I pieced in college. Toys are organized in pastel tubs on a shelf, and babies and stuffed animals peek out from an old cream-colored trunk that served as my hope chest during high school and college.  Its the perfect, old-fashioned little girl room.  She loves it.

Why does this make me so sad?

I stepped into the small bedroom yesterday (soon to become Baby Brother's room) bare and empty now except for the crib in the corner, still made up with Patience's pink gingham baby bedding.  I was surprised when tears sprang into my eyes.  I had worked so hard on her new room, saved for it, planned for it, spent my garage sale money on it, agonized over curtain decisions.  Now I just found myself wanting to put everything back how it was and make her be a baby in a crib again.  And therein lies the cause of my tears.  As I looked at her empty baby room I realized suddenly that she will never, ever be a baby on that pink gingham crib sheet again.  Babyhood is over, and she'll soon be turning from a toddler with pigtails to a little girl with a mind of her own.

I'm glad to be able to say that I have enjoyed her babyhood to the fullest.  I enjoyed dressing her, changing her, bathing her, nursing her.   I even relished those nighttime feedings, just Patience and me in the rocking chair, the whole house quiet and the crickets singing.

Now I need to enjoy toddler hood just as much.  The snack times, the interest in helping me cook, the busyness of her little feet all over the house, dragging out and making messes.  Today I made a point to sit at the table with her and play with Play-Doh for like an hour, even though I secretly hate Play-Doh.  But soon she won't want to play with things like that anymore, and I'll be glad I took the time.

I don't want to be one of those parents who hold onto children and tries to keep them younger than they ought to be.  I don't want to baby our children or hold them back in any way.  I remind myself that my job as a mother is not to raise children but to raise adults.  The end result should be mature, responsible adults who contribute to society and to the world and do it all for the glory of God.  I can't accomplish that by looking back, only by looking forward and enjoying the here and now.

So bring on more toddler hood, be it Play-Doh, finger paints, or other messy things I dislike.  I'll enjoy it to the fullest and cross each bridge as it comes.