Fleeting

To be a mother is to live in a constant state of heart-wrenching emotions. My son is only seven months old, and I already feel the bitter-sweetness of watching him grow. I feel a sad nostalgia for how small he once was, and knowing he will never again be like he is right now. At each new stage he will be a little less dependent on me, and it is joyous but also heartbreaking, because he is a part of me and always will be. I could never have imagined this bond before.
This is what helps me through the nights of little sleep and clingy teething days of getting nothing accomplished- this stage will be over all too soon, never to return. He may want to be held constantly now, but there will come a time when he will not want me to hold him at all. I am trying to hang onto every beautiful moment and embed it in my memory, to enjoy this time in the present rather than wasting it away thinking of all I feel I should be getting done. Looking back later, I will not remember if my kitchen floor was clean, or even if I got any time to myself after a busy day, but I will remember rocking my little boy to sleep late at night.