To my Little One:
I don’t want you to grow. Every night that you kiss me before bed, I lament the fact that you are almost as tall as I am. I want to be able to pick up up like I used to do and tuck you in bed. Sometimes you yell at me for grabbing you as you walk past and sitting you on my lap, but that’s my way of holding on to my past, when you needed me. And now that you are growing up, my heart aches.
So, don’t be mad at me when I hug you too tight, or when I kiss you over and over again. That’s just my fear manifesting into a suffocating blanket of love. And that blanket will cover you for as long as I am on this earth, and beyond.
Love,
Your momma
Sithy Things 