Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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She is standing. STANDING! I know! What happened to my tiny, helpless peanut? This big ol' bruiser has taken her place. Busy cruising around the house in her walker like some demented elderly person, shoving everything she can get her hands on into her mouth. Dog food. Plants. Pop's fridgerator magnets. Mom's face. Still, she can morph from tiny terror to shy bean if I beam a giant smile her way. She tucks her face into her shoulder or behind little paws before peeping up again to see if I am still channeling megawatts her way. Just this morning she sat in her highchair and ate half a banana! Yesterday she had her first big girl tub.

I silently and somewhat sadly catalog each milestone, hoping to emblazon it on my brain forever. There are only so many firsts. I will never see her take her first big girl tub ever again. Never again watch her eyes widen as she enjoys her first banana. Never will I feel my heart expand so much it nearly chokes me because I walk into her room to see her standing in her crib for the first time, snorting happily to see Mama. It is why I'm so intent upon chronicling. Memories fade like old photographs but digital is forever.