this photo may not look like much but for me, it means a lot. my daughter no longer holds my pointer finger when we walk. she now grasps my hand fully. it happened so slowly that i don’t even know when it was the last time that she did that. as much as i love holding her hand down the street like a big girl, i miss when her hand was so small that she could only hold on to one finger. sigh.
i am happy that i captured a photo back in august of her gripping tightly my pointer finger so i can remember that at one stage, all she needed was one finger for support.
this musing of a simple action reminds me of this old blog post that i wrote back in sept, 2011 when my daughter was five months young:
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i remember her firsts. her first smile. first laugh. even her first poop. but i don’t remember her lasts because i never knew that it was going to be her last.
her oooh face…
… i can’t even remember the last time she made this face.
her thin baby legs…
…now they are chunky baby legs and never even noticed that they were growing.
her milk coma face…
…now i’m lucky if she gets that drunk again and wants to fall asleep on me.
she had fine baby hair on her shoulders and ears. she was my lil’ monkey. now it’s all gone and i didn’t even notice that it was disappearing nor did i take pictures of her adorable fuzz (although when she’s older, she’ll probably be thankful i never took those photos).
each time we embark on a new first, i know that there is another part of her baby self that slowly phases out. it won’t be until a few weeks later that i become aware that she no longer has that lil’ quirk.
so for now, as she takes a nap on top of our bed, i’ll take a picture and then place the camera down so i could just stare at her and soak every bit in…because sooner rather than later, this will also become her last.
