Not a Baby

Olivia told me that yesterday. She climbed into my lap and informed me that she is not a baby. She’s a big girl.

And then she told me it was time to go upstairs and pack her bag for her overnight adventure at Gram’s house.

At the bottom of the stairs, she invited me to carry her because, big girl or not, why walk when you can ride?

As I packed clothes for the following day, she picked out which blanket would go to keep her warm. Purple blankie, for the record. She also turned down every toy I suggested she take, choosing instead to take only Layla, the lady bug pillow pet.

I asked her which jammies she wanted and she opted for a pair of non-sleeper pajamas. When Alyssa announced she was taking a sleeper, Olivia changed her mind, wanting to take a sleeper too.

I packed both, knowing that she sleeps better if her feet aren’t encased in a sleeper. A girl’s feet need to breathe, don’t you know?

We got to my mom’s at about 5:30 and Jaxon was already there. All three kids were thrilled to see each other, as if they hadn’t just seen each other two days ago.

But that’s the way of the under 10 set. They have short memories and even shorter attention spans. In the time I was there (about 45 minutes) they went from the Play-Doh dentist set to a short game of Whack-a-Mole and then to settling in on the floor for a little television chill-time.

I kissed both girls and the boy goodbye and told my mom to call me if O decided she needed me, no matter what the time.

I got home and tried to figure out what to do with a house that wasn’t filled with noise and racing children. I put a load of laundry in the drier and Tom and I watched the news.

I kept my phone next to me for the next three hours before heading to bed, phone still in my hand.

She didn’t call.

My girl isn’t a baby anymore. She doesn’t need me as much as she needed me even six months ago and I’m so thrilled for her independence. She needs this. She needs to know that she’s one of the kids, that she can have a sleep-over with Gram and that I’ll be back the next day.

And I will. Give me another two hours and I’ll be at the door, announcing that it’s time to go home. And I can guarantee I’ll be greeted with groans. I’m just lucky the groans are accompanied by grins and kisses.

I’m also lucky that even though they’re not babies anymore, those little girls let me baby them just a little every once in awhile. I have to remind them every so often that they’ll always be babies to me even as they spread their wings and learn to fly (or heck, sleep!) without me.