My "Baby" is Gone

I've known this day was coming. 

The nearer it got, the more I wished it away and wished time to stand still.

My baby isn't a baby anymore.

Today - my ClaireBear is 3.

 

 

Here's the thing, though.  To me, she will always be my baby.  I get it now when my mom remarks to people that I'm her baby.  I silently cringe.  Being the "baby" of the family wasn't always great.  (I still don't get to ride shot-gun.)  But to my mom, I will always be her baby.  And to me, Claire will always be mine.

She was our "happy accident"  - and in these past three years she has given us so much happiness.  She brings out the best in all of us.

 

Daddy crumbles with her smile.

Mommy speaks more gently when "The Bear" is around.

Ella has become a big sister - learning to care for her baby sister.

Abbigail is her protector, and is so quick to defend.

Yes, I know, after 3 is 4... then 5.  Somehow I'll come to terms my baby isn't a baby anymore.  She'll learn to ride a bike, start school, complain about homework, beg to wear makeup, have her first kiss, her heart will get broken, and her heart will know love.  For now - I hold onto all the wonderful little things that make my "Bear" so wonderful...

When mommy gets mad you ask, "You mad?" I'll say no - and you ask again, "You happy?"
Claire - I'm always happy when you are around.

At bedtime it's always the same routine:
Hot Chocolate
"No spiders?"
"No Claire, there are no spiders."
"No strangers?"
"No Bear, there are no strangers."

You still fall asleep in my arms.

I love it when you fight for what you want!  (Like I said, being the baby isn't always easy.)

Your hair is fabulous!

When you're hurt, sad or just tired... you want me.

You know all the words to "I Am a Child of God" and you sing it loud!

You think you can do a cartwheel.

I'll never forget this 4th of July.  When I got home from work, and you were too afraid of the fireworks - you walked in the house and yelled, "They go BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM" and your two little hands showed just how big those "booms" were.

You aren't afraid to try new things.  You are brave.

You may be the baby, but you do a darn good job protecting your sisters, and quickly join their ranks when there is freedom (from chores) to be fought for.

The other day you pooped in Kay's front yard.  Yes, she has surveillance cameras.

Your imagination is big and wild.  You can sit for hours and entertain yourself - and the rest of us.

You love me, unconditionally.  I need that.

You adore your daddy.  He deserves that.

You cherish every moment with your sisters.  Don't ever stop that.

You love the Savior.  He loves you.  And in your eyes I see Him.  You'll learn to hold on to that.

She's Growing Up...

...and every day she grows she continues to amaze me.
Today, my little Ella, turns 8.

I can understand why I love her so much.  She's so many things: sassy, sweet, kind, soft-hearted, smart, beautiful, and just one glance at her you know she is mine.  She is my CopyKat.

What I don't understand is how she is growing up so fast?  How have eight years gone by?  Will the next eight go by as fast?  My heart aches to think about "it."  Think about her finishing grade school, think about her becoming a tween, think about her asking to borrow the car, think about her dating, think about her graduating... moving out... moving on... moving away from me.

Before she goes (and yes, I know, that is a long time from now) I want Ella to know just a few of the many wonderful things I adore about her:

I love the way you cling to me.  I know you still need me.

You are an amazing big sister: protective and caring.

I'm amazed by the way you can memorize the words to every song.

You are so smart!  Straight A's for 2nd Grade.

You know our home is a place of refuge,

and inside it you have no inhibitions.

You are a daddy's girl to the core.

I love how you worry so much about your friends.

I'm so proud you have found the courage

to sing with the Primary on the stand!

Faced with your own fear, you try to hide it to be brave for your sisters,

and lend them your bravery.

You've got style.

You understand modesty.

You love your family.

You love the Savior.

I love you EllaBella... "loved by all the fellas... you're the prettiest little girl in the whole wide world... you're a Thornburgh girl."

This Can't Be Happening!

Really - this can't be happening.  My sweet, beautiful, charming, hilarious Abbigail is five.  My adorable lucky charm, born on St. Patrick's Day.  Five years old.  Every day I tell her to stop growing.  Every day she continues to ignore me.  Nothing new there.

 

So, of course we had a party to celebrate this mile-stone.  Ten girls, and two boys (her cousin Cooper who turns 5 himself in just 5 days, and her crush from pre-school, Bo, who turns 5 tomorrow.)  So 12 crazy kids made crazier by cake, ice-cream, soda, and sugared popcorn.  I know their parents are still cursing my name.

 

She opened presents, they played games, the two boys put up with the Hello Kitty theme, and through the rush of it all I kept thinking, "This can't be happening.  I can't be losing this sweet toddler to time!"

But, when we wake tomorrow she'll be 5-years and one day, and there is nothing I can do to stop time.



 

 

So, as I send her out into this rough world, the world where kindergarten is just a few months away; where soon that new bike won't be too big; where someday she'll let go of "Pinky the Blanket"...

...tonight I want to remember and remind what makes this one-of-a-kind kid so incredible.  (Cuz I'm sure in 10 years I'll need that reminder.)

 

 

I love your laugh.  It's so infectious, and we all need to laugh more.

I love how you try so hard to impress your older sister.

I love how you'll hand over a favorite toy to your crying baby sister.

I love how you want to be every ones friend, and you don't fear rejection.  If they're not your friend now, they will be later.

I love how Miley Cyrus (the tom-cat) runs to your side the moment he hears your cries.

I love your bravery.

I love your honesty.

I love how you call sneezes "Bless-yous."

I love that even in the middle of summer you want me to sing you Christmas songs at bedtime.

I love your growing sense of humor.

I love that you love me.  I love that when you get hurt you call out my name first.  I love those nights you wake up afraid and call out my name first.  That's the best part about being your mom, Abbigail: knowing you love me just as much as I love you.  I hear that love every time you say my name, "Mommy."  A name I don't take lightly.  A title I promise to keep "earning" every day.

I love you, and though I dread seeing that sweet, little girl grow - I can't wait to see the person she becomes year after year.

I love you.

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Saint Patrick's Day is doubly special in the Jarvis Family.  My nephew, Reid... or shall we say Elder Jarvis shares a birthday with Abbigail.  (Rather - she shares the day with him.  He is 14 years older.)

Elder Jarvis just so happens to be serving his mission in Salt Lake City.  It just so happens his favorite Aunt (ahem) lives in Salt Lake City.  So we were able to take him cake and ice-cream to share with his companion and the other two elders living in the apartment.  Abbigail made something special for him, too; a heart made out of play-doh.  We love you Elder Jarvis and are so proud of you!