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I Can Still See My Little Ones
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Parenting
By Jamie Collins
Updated: May 26, 2023
Originally Published: May 26, 2023
Photograph by Sunny Skies Photography
As I sat in church, I observed a family ahead of me—a mother, father, and their adult daughter. The mother wrapped her arm around her daughter, who rested her head on her mom’s shoulder. I glanced down at my 5-year-old, his head comfortably nestled in my lap. In that moment, a profound realization struck me: no matter how old they grow, our children will always remain our little ones, for when we look through the lens of parenthood, we can still envision the tiny versions of them they once were.
Take my 11-year-old son, for instance. His features have morphed significantly—his adult teeth, coarser and darker hair, and height now nearly matching mine when we stand side by side. Yet, when I truly look at him, I see the faint scar on his cheek that I marveled at while nursing him, curious about its origin. I can almost hear his beaming voice from when he was 6, proudly showcasing one of his Lego masterpieces with that adorable gap-toothed grin. In his long, slender fingers, I can still recognize the pudgy hands that once scooted toy cars across the floor. He remains my baby because I can still see that little boy in him.
When I gaze at my daughters, their long, flowing hair reminds me of the messy curls that would stick to their foreheads after a nap. I close my eyes and can almost hear their little lisps from when they would sing “You Are My Sunshine,” albeit with a few words slightly off. Those sweet, high-pitched voices have transformed into beautiful melodies that now fill the air, taking my breath away in a brand new way. They are still my little girls, and I cherish that I can still see those moments in them.
I feel their hugs around my neck, which have changed now that they can reach me standing beside them. But when I close my eyes, I can still feel the warmth of their chubby arms wrapped around me, their tiny heads resting on my shoulder. They might be almost grown, yet they still request a “kid sandwich”—a hug with mom on one side, them in the middle, and dad on the other. No one has to lift them for these embraces now; they stand tall and proud, but nestled between us, I still sense the babies they once were.
My 5-year-old is sprawled out under his sheets, his legs growing longer and stronger. His feet no longer resemble those of a baby; they look like those of a little boy. He’s not as round and chubby anymore, and his running is only mildly amusing. I watch him dart away and realize that in the blink of an eye, he’ll be as tall as his siblings, maybe even towering above me. I wonder, when he’s grown and shaving, will I still glimpse my baby within him?
Because I can still see my little ones in each of them, I want to hold them close—perhaps even closer than they’d prefer at times. Just this morning, I reminded my son about needing a coat for the bus stop, a remnant of the years I spent swaddling him and ensuring he was cozy and safe. He looked at me with a mix of pity and amusement, assuring me he was just fine. For a fleeting moment, I felt as if he was implying he didn’t need me anymore. But then I remembered that my baby is still there, just in a different form. He is growing, spreading his wings, but he still requires me in new ways; they all do.
Their needs have evolved—not for swaddling and bedtime stories anymore, but for help with homework, guidance through life’s challenges, rides to practice, and support in memorizing their lines for the school play. Each of these moments of motherhood is uniquely glorious, different from the past but just as sweet in their own right. As we navigate this new chapter, I realize we are not discarding the past; we are layering it with new experiences. The earlier memories remain, and when the moment is right, they become my babies again, if only for a brief interlude. What a gift it is to know that the little ones I adore are still within them.
I cherish those moments when I can wrap my arms around them, savoring the brief instances they allow me to nurture the babies that still reside inside. Then, I stand tall, take a deep breath, and embrace the role of mom to the remarkable individuals they are becoming. I celebrate their independence and strength, understanding that this is the essence of motherhood. We are preparing our little ones—and ourselves—for the adults they will ultimately grow into. I look at them in awe, my precious loves, even as the things I adore about them change and evolve. I take in the wonder that are my sweet children and know that regardless of what the future holds, they will forever be my little ones.
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Summary:
As children grow, parents often find it difficult to let go of their memories of them as little ones. This reflective piece captures the essence of motherhood, illustrating how even though children grow taller and stronger, they will always be our babies at heart.