I pulled her out of the car and she threw her arms around my neck, her legs lifelessly dangling along by body, chipped orange painted toenails skimming further down my thighs then I had remembered. And then I realized how much this child has truly grown. And I wonder how many times I have left to hold her like this and if I’ll ever know when it’s the last time. Or does it just happen that way. A quiet evolution that softens the sting of lasts. It’s sneaky, this idea of growing up. The age of three seems so little—it is so little—but why does it seems so grown. I want to hold on to it forever. I want to hold on to her like this forever.

Some days I struggle. I sneak into the bathroom quietly and cry, wondering how God could have given such a huge responsibility to such an unqualified person. Her features so delicate but her will so strong. And finding that balance of embracing the core of her being without damaging her spirit is a dance I find myself fumbling through. Sometimes I soar brilliantly, sometimes I plummet miserably, it’s ebb and flow a continual adjustment. I’m learning. She reminds us daily of how big she is, so proud, so independent, yet how frustrated she is with still being so small. As much as she is growing, I find so am I.

Changes are happening and soon there will be a new little set of arms draped over my shoulders. And I can’t help to to wonder how I’ll embrace these while still making plenty of room for the other, the chipped-nail ones I’m so desperately hoping will stay small enough for me to hold forever. My heart has room, this I know, but these are things that I’m not ready to let go of, to let grow. Dangling legs along my body are just one on a rambling list of simple details. My little mama-in-training, my side-kick. How these coming months will change us both.

At the end of the day, I wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Every struggle, every belly laugh, it’s getting us to where we need to be. The sum of it all ending with our lives a little better today then they were yesterday. It’s funny how it just keeps getting sweeter like that. I just have to trust that it keeps on this way. Little girl, you are mine and you are so loved. And as much as my heart aches to share my shoulders, it swells with the love that is about to boom with even more greatness, for you, for the three of us. It’s hard to imagine, but I know it’s true.

“Well, I’ve been afraid of changing
‘Cause I’ve built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Even children get older
And I’m getting older too”

A huge thanks to my hubs, who was a trooper and captured these for me.  At this point in my pregnancy, I didn’t want to have my picture taken any more, but oh how I was wrong.  These images, I’ll treasure of the two of us forever.  They are my last set of photos of me, as a mama of one, with my Isla-girl, as an only child.  They are priceless, this precious moment in our lives frozen in time, the innocence and love captured for years to come.  It will always haunt me that these images almost never happened.  And I am beyond grateful they are mine.