I thought that the arrival of K would cure my holiday blues, but it hasn't. Instead, I'm facing a different sort of holiday depression this year.
Time is going by too fast.
We have teeth coming in. She's almost sitting up unassisted. She's rolling both ways. We set up the high chair last night, and we're starting solid foods this weekend.
We are quickly coming into her first holiday season, which will fade away just as fast.
Don't get me wrong. I'm HAPPY she's growing and thriving. The doctor can't believe how well she's doing. She's not only passed all of her four-month development marks, she's doing some things that shouldn't even start until six months. And she's a premie. It's truly unbelievable - a miracle considering the circumstances into which she was born.
Yet, it's hard for me to not want her to stay small forever. All of her firsts are our lasts. Every time I witness her doing something for the first time - whether it's as small as putting her pacifier back in her mouth or as big as her sitting up unassisted - I know that I will never witness that moment again.
So with Thanksgiving coming up next week, and Christmas right around the corner from that, I'm already feeling nostalgic. I can't wait to experience all of the exciting moments I know are ahead in the next month and a half.
But I'm also incredibly sad that I will never get them again.