You Can't Keep A Cookie

I thought decorating Christmas cookies together could make for some sweet memories,

and I was right.  It was an opportunity for me to let go and let her be a little messy, and

for her to try something new, to experiment with how hard to squeeze, how much

sprinkle to sprinkle, and how all the colors interacted.  But more than that, it was a

chance to do something fun and seasonal in the comfort of our own cozy home; a

chance to show her a little love.

She squeezed red and white frosting onto her first sugar cookie and sprinkled

excessive sprinkles. Initially she wanted my help with the frosting, but boy did her face

light up when she realized she could do it herself!  I swear the red and white streaks with

spots of color seemed like the most beautiful artwork I’d ever seen, and of course I took

a picture.

You know what happens after you decorate Christmas cookies though right?  You eat them!

But something surprised me: my initial resistance to let her eat the cookie.  No, I wasn’t

overly concerned with sugar, and dinner had passed so it wasn’t about ruining her appetite. 

It’s because that was the FIRST cookie she’d ever made and a part of me wanted to KEEP it.

To preserve it just as is, so we could remember this little moment forever every time we

looked at it.

It was completely irrational. You can’t save a cookie!  Cookies are made for eating!

The layers of that started to hit me pretty heavily.  You can’t stop time and you can’t take it with you. Nothing stays the same.  I often look at this little girl and marvel that seemingly so recently, I cradled her in my arms and she was completely dependent on me for EVERYTHING.  Now she wanders around our house, puts on her clothes by herself, and has her very own independent thoughts. However small, she is definitely her very own person.

I almost wish someone had told me that it goes so fast! ;)

I feel so attached to this precocious little toddler, her funny ways of saying things, her unabashed affection, her playful imagination.  But it won’t stay this way forever either, nor will it stay this way all that much longer. My little girls are going to get big, and as much as I’d like to beg them not to, the only way that happens is an outcome I hope never to have to face.  If you keep a cookie because you cannot bear to consume it, it will eventually spoil, and if I cling too hard to my daughters’ littleness, I might miss out on the joy of it all, of all the different stages.

Fittingly, earlier in the day yesterday Zach had asked her “Will you stay my little girl forever?” as a sweet little moment of musing and connection.  Her response was just about perfect, but bittersweet: “I’ll be your little girl for a little bit, but then I gotta grow up.”