I'm going to miss this...

Perhaps it's the late-pregnancy hormones... the stress of officially being an attending... the challenges of parenting a (particularly dynamic and strong-willed) 3-year-old, or more likely the fatigue inherently associated with all of the above. But regardless of my excuse, I have admittedly been a touch more irritable/easily annoyed/frustrated lately. Generally I am a fairly patient and understanding Mom, and goodness knows E gets away with "expressing herself" a lot more than her peers. You want to do a toddler version of breakdancing in the middle of the floor at the ice cream store? Break it down, my little MC Hammer.

But recently I've been a bit short-tempered, impatient, and sometimes downright snarky. I caught myself losing my temper after several nights in a row of Broadway-worthy bedtime protests which typically run the spectrum from "Mommy, stay with me puh-leeeease", "Mommy, I neeeeeeed yooooouuu!", "Don't leave me- I'll be all alone!" and ending in blood-curdling screams/kicks/wails that simultaneously break my heart and raise my cortisol levels to pathologic values. I've also been frustrated with her frequent need to be held/carried by me, and the incessant stream of consciousness that invariably begins with "Mommy, will you/can you/I want..."

Last night, however, I had a revelation. We'd done the prerequisite stall tactics related to going uptstairs, taking a bath, getting on pjs, brushing teeth, reading (3) books, saying prayers, and tucking in. Exhausted from saying "No, not in a minute. NOW" 752 times, I braced myself for the me-leaving-the-room debacle. It began as expected. When I got to the door, Elle called "Mommy!"

"Yes, sweetheart?", I sighed.

"Come back! I need to tell you something!"
Bigger, melodramatic sigh (where do you think she gets it from?!). "What is it, Elle?"

"Mommy, I love you."

Granted, I am completely aware this was part of the stalling routine. I know she was probably just playing me. But it hit me. All too soon, she won't want me by her side 24 hours a day. I may not (gasp) be her first choice of playmates. She won't want to be held, hugged, rocked, carried, tickled and snuggled. She won't beg for one more book, one more song, one more re-enactment of the Cinderella story. Before I know it, she'll be embarrassed by my goodbye kisses. She'll want to go to friends' houses instead of having dinner with us. She'll come home a couple times a year to check in, get laundry done, and mumble a few words about how college is going. She won't be giddy over a turkey shaped Thanksgiving breakfast.

As my mind fast-forwarded through the years, I realized just how much I'm going to miss this. This very moment-- no matter how presently frustrating it may be-- will be what I long for when she's all grown up. Nearly sobbing, I scooped her up and snuggled in beside her... just for a minute.

Whether it was the late-pregnancy hormones... the stress of officially being an attending... the challenges of parenting a (particularly dynamic and strong-willed) 3-year-old, or more likely the fatigue inherently associated with all of the above, emotional upheaval had taken place. I vowed to live more in the moment, savor the little things in life, and never take for granted the incredible gift of being Mommy to my little one(s).