As a mother, I have many things on my plate. I play chef (sometimes just microwaver), taxi cab driver, seamstress, playmate, consoler, maid; you know...all the things that are required of someone caring for a house and two children. The reality of it all is that is can get to be a bit overwhelming at times. I find myself daydreaming, staring out the window, thinking of what it will be like when I can finally pursue my dream of working my photography business full time, while my kids fight, scream, and pull hair behind me. Or, I find myself at a table in Chili's, on Easter day, with two rambunctious kids, telling my oldest daughter, "I can't wait till we can finally hold down a conversation and you aren't squirming in your seat, itching to get out of here." There are also the times when my daughter spills her full glass of milk onto my newly mopped floor and I let out a sigh and roll my eyes, because I know it's just going to happen again tomorrow. It's days like these that I often think; I can't wait till they're older.

That's when I turn from the window and look at my girls, who have stopped their fighting and have made up, now playing side by side. That's when, after a stressful lunch, each of my girls grab my hand, ever so sweetly, and walk to the car with me, and the oldest one says "Thanks for lunch, mommy," with such a joyous expression. That's when my littlest one says "Uh oh, mommy," and points at the mess she's made and flashes me the worlds' biggest smile. How can I ever stay mad at that?

Today I sat rocking my 'little baby', and I use that term lightly. Her body no longer fits in the crook of my arm, but rather sprawls over my entire chest. Her legs dangle at my sides, and her arms wrap around my neck. Her chin sits so comfortably on my shoulder, with her nose nestled into the side of my face. Where has my baby gone? The transition from baby to big girl went unnoticed with my first born, as we welcomed our second. It was hardly as significant as the aging of my second. I know this will be the last baby that I have. I know that I will no longer get to rock my own newborn to sleep. I know that in a few months, she'll be out of diapers. And while that is supposed to be a good thing, it's just another reminder that she's growing up. I look at my oldest who has just started school and I scarcely remember her even BEING a baby. If not for pictures I'd wonder if she came to us like this.

As all these thoughts run through my head, I continue to rock my baby. For the truth of the matter is, she won't fit there much longer. I decide that instead of trying to think about it, I will savor her hand patting my back, her feet tapping against my legs, and the smell of her hair. There are only so many moments we get to share like this, and I want to remember just how I feel in this moment. I just want to breathe it in.

Learn more about this author, Autumn Hernandez.
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