The End of An Era

It's finally happening. The thing I have looked forward to for the past seven years! In a few more weeks I will no longer be dropping off or picking up a child from the nursery at church!

A little less than seven years ago, I started dropping my eldest off in the nursery. An exciting rite of passage. It seemed unreal to me. But now, after dropping off one, sometimes two, babies every Sunday morning and evening, I will be done. Yes!

My youngest turned two recently. The age when they are kicked out of the nursery and dropped into the unstableness that is the toddler room. I'm very excited, but it's bittersweet.

No longer do I have to feel trapped by lugging around an infant, one who needs so much time and attention. The cleaning up, the breastfeeding, the explosive diapers, little sleep, introducing solids. But I no longer have that warm little bundle to snuggle with. No one who looks at me and thinks everything I do is wonderful and perfect. No one who looks at me with completely trusting eyes. No one who needs me so completely and wants me so completely.

I will miss the baby stage, it was fun and frustrating. I'm glad it's over, very glad I don't have to go back, but I will always cherish the memories.