Baby Pictures

I follow a lot of people on twitter who post pictures of their babies. Babies are cute. They do funny things. Social media was practically invented for sharing photos of our wee ones.

I'm not complaining. I like seeing your babies' pictures. I'm at that in-between place in life where I'm too old to have any more kids of my own, but too young to think about grandchildren yet. (YES I AM. Shuddup.)

For some years, adorable baby pictures kind of made my ovaries ache. I missed the sweet smell, the velvety skin, the pudgy dimpled hands. Your baby pictures made me want to find a newborn to snuggle, to find some chunky toddler thighs to pinch.

Elijah's senior year in high school was an overly sentimental time for me. His baby pictures sent me into fits of tears, wanting my baby boy back. Wanting to repeat the years. To have more time. To correct my mistakes. Once he graduated and started college, I was able to move on as well. He was happy and I could be happy.

Funny how our mood is so tied to our children's that way.

Because now when you post your babies' pictures, what I see is opportunity. Promise. Hope. DON'T FUCK IT UP!! I want to tell you. Teach your children well.

All too soon, those adorable fat rolls will give way to strong, muscular bodies. And the mistakes our children make will no longer be teaching opportunities. In fact, we may have no voice at all. Whatever our children go through now, they have to go through on their own, to get to a place where they can learn, grow and move on. Watching them and waiting for them to get to that place can tear a mother's heart out.