I remember the last time I gave Sophia a bottle of formula. We had decided to use up the rest of it, and then be fully on cows milk. She used to make this noise. A little impatient giggle, because she knew what was about to come, and she had learned from experience she would get it, she didn’t need to cry in order to get it. I used to love this sound. And I remember the last bottle of formula, and she gave me the look and giggle, eager to cuddle down with this bottle of goodness, and I knew that giggle would be gone soon. Soon, her bottle of cows milk would be a cup. And it would no longer be a thing, she would eat and drink like the rest of us. And I would no more hear that cute little milk-giggle.
Motherhood has so many moments like that, where you realise that your children are growing up. Many of them are happy, big moments, but some may seem so insignificant to some, but still such a defining moment to others. That was one of them.
Now, with a baby about to enter into her second year, I am facing the same thing. She, too, has the milk-giggle going on when she sees me preparing it, hears it shaking in my hand, and her face erupts into this joyous ‘I have to be patient’ smile, and the little noises that come out are unlike anything else.
Alas, her time will come as well. One day I will be scraping the last scoops of formula out of that tin and into her bottle, and I will know that the giggle is slowly fading out. And I will know that my baby is becoming… a little girl…