The Mormon Mother's Curse

I'm feeling happy today. And a bit wistful too.

Why?

I don't know.

Perhaps it's because Amelia woke up early this morning and was actually calling "Mama" from her crib instead of "Daddy" or "Bampa."

And maybe I'm happy because it took over a half an hour to make my bed this morning because Amelia kept diving onto it, which of course meant that I had to dive on after her and tickle her to within an inch of her chubby little life while she giggled like a mad mad thing. And maybe it's because she's learned the hand motions to the Eensie Weensie Spider and wants me to sing it with her over and over.

And I may be feeling just the tinsiest bit wistful because my beautiful child has officially abandoned the hollowed halls of babyhood and is nearly sprinting through the frightening forest of toddlerdom.

And wistful because it seems like everyone I know is either expecting a baby or recently gave birth which makes me think "I remember that. It is very hard." But it also makes me think "Wouldn't it be nice if . . . "

Damn.

Sigh.

Is this inevitable?