Maybe its the fact that she isn't going to be "The Baby" for very long. Or maybe its the experience of knowing how quickly it passes. Maybe its the simple truth that Ellis never really enjoyed babyhood himself and was a much happier person when he could walk and talk, but I catch my breath countless times a day just marvelling at her delicious babiness.
She is just so good at being a baby. Waving, saying "Hiya", playing with her toes, playing peekaboo, putting everything in her mouth...she does all of the things that one imagines babies should do. Some days I think I could spend hours just blowing raspberries on her fat little tummy.
But I can't. I have housework and cooking and errands and a new baby in a few short weeks. The guilt and sadness haunts me. Many days, I feel like I am in mourning. I want to enjoy every single precious moment, but can't. I feel like there is a clock hanging over me, reminding me with every kick, stab of heart burn, twinge of my pelvis that I am carrying the next baby and Georgia is going to be the toddler faster than I would of like.
Of course, the new baby isn't making her grow up. That is happening already. My determined little girl is convinced she can walk at 9 months (she can't). When Ellis is rough housing with his friends, Georgia jumps straight into the fray. Heck, she's even learned how to roar back in the faces of any 3 year old boy who tries to scare her with his dinosaur impression.
More than anything, I think its the deadline: 11ish weeks until she is no longer the baby. I suppose most people don't have that kind of deadline when their baby is not even 10 months old. I know how love grows when new children enter your life. I understand that Georgia will never even know what has been lost, only what's been gained. And I need to spend less time mourning the things that I haven't really lost at all, enjoying what I have and looking forward to what I am going to get.
Easier said than don, but still...blowing raspberries on fat tummies does help.