I am very emotional tonight about how fast things are changing. I am crying as I type this. I can't believe how much things have changed already. It was only 15 weeks ago that we were coming home with our newborn daughter and now here she is laughing, grabbing things, and talking all the time. I am so terrified that I will forget how things were. I know I have hundreds of pictures to remind me, but it's not the same. How could it go so fast already? Soon she will six months old, then a year. Walking and running and talking. I don't ever want to forget any of it. Tonight while I was holding her and she was smiling in her sleep I just cried and cried. I want her to want me like this forever. I want to hold her and rock her to sleep every night. I don't want to miss a thing. I am so excited for the future, but she will only be exactly like this right now. There is no going back. It makes me feel like I am not enjoying this enough. I have work and school and chores. I wish I could throw all that away and just play with Marley all day long. I am so glad I have her. I honestly don't even remember who I was before she got here. She is my reason for getting up and going to work and school. I want her life to be better than this tiny apartment with no yard to play in. I guess all moms feel this way at some point. It makes me appreciate my mom so much more. I have always appreciated her, but feeling the way that she felt makes me want to hug her. Here I am, the one she cried about, crying about my own. It must make her so happy and so sad at the same time to think about everything that has happened. You want your kids to grow up happy and healthy and thriving. But you also want to keep them forever. You want them to live with you and rub their backs at night and cuddle with them when they can't sleep. I know I will be there for Marley just like my mom was there for me. I have the best mother in the world and I can only hope that Marley and I are best friends like my mom and I are.
Unconditional love is such a powerful thing.
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