I was over at Sandra’s place, and she has this post (has sound on the post).   The song is by Darius Rucker, “It Won’t Be Like this for Long.”

I’ve re-read my post about Olivia at the doctor’s office and reminding myself how she sat there as brave as she could for as long as she could.  She tells me all the time, “I’m a big girl, mommy.”   Yes, she is.  But she’s also my little girl.  The little girl that jsut 33 short months ago was screaming as I held her for the first time.  The first words I said to her were, “It’s okay.  Mommy’s here.  I love you.”  I bet I’ve said those words a million times, if not more.

Tuesday night was a very trying evening for us.  The ride home from school was laden with “why?” questions of all sorts and after about 30 minutes, I really couldn’t hear it any more. I asked her to please, please, please just be quiet for a few minutes.  She replied, “OK, mommy.  I’m sorry.”  She didn’t need to be sorry.  She was being, well, her.  I was the one who needed to be sorry.  We got home and had dinner and a tea-party and our nightly routine.  After everyone was gone to bed, I couldn’t sleep.  I went and sat on the edge of her bed and watched her sleep.  My once scared little girl is now almost four with so much independence and ideas and strength.  Her imagination is off the charts and the compassion this kid has is unbelievable.  Watching her sleep wasn’t enough for me.  I picked her up and rocked her.  She had no idea I was there (she’s not much of a rocker/cuddler any more).  I closed my eyes as I inhaled her shampoo and lotion.  I never, ever want to forget that scent.  The way her skin feels to my touch.  I’m constantly reminded by her that life is okay.  It may take me a few days to get back into the groove, but it’s okay.  We all have bad days.  We all have our attitude issues.  Sometimes we all just want peace and quiet.  No matter what, my beautiful, brown-eyed girl always tells me she loves me and puckers up for a big ‘ol kiss. 

Tonight we went to the Wal Marks for some stuff and I told her to not let me forget to get mousse.  After giggling, because the only mousse she knows is the animal, she asked me, “Why?” I told her I needed it to try and make my hair pretty.  Her reply, “But your hair is beautiful pretty just like it is.”  Beautiful pretty.  There’s a combo I’ve never been called before.  That’s how she sees me, that’s how I’ll be.

We hug and kiss and laugh daily.  We have good days.  We have bad days.  We have days that hover in the middle.  However, at the end of each and every day, no matter what our fights and our struggles were, I get the biggest hug and the wettest kiss and the best, “I love you, mommy” my tired ears can hear.  That is followed by an imaginary watch, necklace and some snack she whips out from behind her back. Because it’s getting cold now, she ties a green bean hat on my head.  Don’t know what it’s for, but she says I need it. She takes my word, why shouldn’t I take hers?

My baby’s growing up so fast.  So stinking fast. 

 

“It won’t be like this for long.”

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