Firsts and Lasts

With babies you spend your time fixated on firsts: the first time she crawls; the first time she walks; her first word. Toddlerhood and preschool present a whole other set of firsts: the first time she says a sentence, for instance, or the first time she uses deception (oh boy, are we in for it). What I hadn't counted on with raising children was counting the lasts, or rather I should say missing them. When was the last time I rocked Grace to sleep before laying her down? When was the last time she called me "Mama" instead of "Mommy"? When was the last time she called to Craig and me, "Mommy, Daddy, where are you?", when she woke in the morning. I can't recall those dates. I didn't write them down in her baby book. In reality, there often isn't a single moment that marks the end of a particular behavior, it just slowly goes away.

Three days ago, I reached for Julia while Craig held her. She turned her cheek and clutched her dad's shoulder. This was the first time she ever demonstrated a preference for Craig. It was the last time she would be a complete mama's girl. This time I remembered to write it down.