Will I remember this when she's a teenager?

Jenna's first birthday is rapidly approaching. This time last year, I was miserable as can be, hating this heat, hating being pregnant, and (because of the misery) unable to fathom how much I was going to love the little girl I had yet to meet. My how things change. It has been 323 days since Jenna came into this world, and it's hard to imagine I spent the first 9,946 days of my life without her.

We had dinner at my dad's house tonight, and kept Jenna out a bit past her bedtime, especially considering she only took one 28 minute nap at daycare today. By the time we pulled in the house, she was screaming. She uncharacteristically screamed all through her 3 minute bath, and as I pulled the PJ's over her head. During this ordeal, I called down to Josh to make her a bottle.

As I put the bottle in her mouth, she shut her little eyes, overwhelmed with a surge of instant gratification, and spent the next 5 minutes quietly enjoying her bottle, eyes closed, face nuzzled into my side. I looked at her, fresh from the bath, smelling like a baby (gotta love Johnson & Johnson!) and wondered out loud to Josh, "she's absolutely perfect right now, at this moment in time. Will I remember this when she's a teenager?" He just naively said she'll never go through that teenager phase, but I know one day she will. One day she'll want me to drop her off a block away from the movie theater, and she won't want me to kiss her goodbye in front of her friends. But not tonight. Tonight she is still my little baby girl, cuddled up in my arms, drinking her bottle with closed eyes and an open heart. If I could stencil the way she looked tonight permanently on my brain, I would, but all I can do is file this moment away with the million other moments I've cherished since her birth... all a bit fuzzy around the edges already, memorable less for their specific details and more for the overall happiness of the 10 1/2 months I've enjoyed with her.

I know, as she gets older, she won't want to consider herself "my baby" (which of course, in my heart, she'll always be), but I'm okay with knowing that at least I'll always be her mommy. That's good enough for me.