“This is our home.”
I say this a lot these days while bent low to toddler level. Putting on shoes, getting in the car, soothing tears, multiple other times each day our littlest one says “I go home now?” Her little voice filled with hope and anticipation.
“I go home now?”
Please stop telling me, “one day you’re gonna miss all this.” I know that. I’ve even written a blog post about it. But that phrase doesn’t help me now.
It doesn’t help me when I’m walking around the house at the end of the day and picking up every toy the girls own from the floor, scraping dried on food from plates and forks, begging one to go to sleep already, all after (what feels like) hours of begging both of them to eat their dinner.
This is not a blog post. I repeat...this is not a blog post.
This is one Mama who had her first day of first days dropping her baby off for pre-school. This is my baby, people! My she-was-just-born, I-swear-she-can't-be-this-big baby!
I know, I know...it's only two days per week and it's only for the mornings...
And I'm OK. I really am. She did great too. NO tears were shed!!
I'm just so proud. So very proud of my baby/big girl.
This question stumbled out of my mouth amid a torrent of tears, to which my three-and-a-half year old had no response.
There I was, cross-legged in the middle of the kitchen floor with tears spilling on my lap, spatula still in hand. It was approaching dinner time when the hubby would arrive home and we would all sit to a happy dinner together, at least that was the plan. Only I couldn’t pull myself out of my brokenness.
"Why don't you appreciate me? Don't you love me?"
In the dead of sleep, one of the last things you like to hear is the sound of your child crying. However, this has been my experience on several occasions over the last few weeks.
My three year old has been experiencing what I believe to be growing pains. And, of course, like all good tragedies, they always happen in the middle of the night. What starts as a whimper quickly escalates as she wakes up to find herself in pain. The first words out of her mouth are a blessing and a curse: “Mama!” Why do Daddy’s not get called in for this? I guess we’ll never know.
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