Isis is now two years old. She has moved into her "big girl" bed and she is very proud. She has a pillow and several blankets. When we pull the covers up at night she says, "Like Mommy Daddy!" I blink back tears. Not because she is getting big, but because I am proud of her. We turn on her night light and she teases, "No getting ooooouuuut!"
I took her to the park the other day and stood like an idiot just staring at her. She scaled the rock wall by herself. She flew down the slide on her tummy. She is learning to push the pedals on her tricycle. She has strength and balance and agility. When did all this happen? I have a lump in my throat. Not because she is getting big, because I am proud.
My last year of teaching I heard two things over and over. One. You will never ever regret staying home to raise your children. Two. You can prepare for a baby, but you can never prepare for how much you are going to love it.
I stood at the kitchen window a few days ago with that lump again. I watched Isis in her Daddy's arms getting into the car. Chris was taking her to McDonald's and then to the park. It was 11:00 am on a Tuesday. Chris should have been at work. He came home to take his little girl on a date. He used to take me on dates. But I don't care. Nothing could have made me happier at that moment then to see her excitement. Yesterday she told me she wanted to go back to the park with Daddy. More tears. Not because I am sad, because I know how much he loves her too.
She is beginning to reason. I ask her why she needed to sit in time out. She tells me, "Stand up couch." I ask her what we should do on the couch. "Sit.....I soooowwwwy." My heart melts. Not because I am angry, because I know she really is sorry.
She is beginning to read books with us. We leave out the phrases and she finishes them. I ask her where the characters might be going and she predicts, "playground." I ask her why the little girl is tip-toe-ing. She tells me, "Baby sleeping." She is answering who, what, where, and why questions. I listen to her in amazement. What happened to that baby in the crib?
She is two. People have told me that time flies when you have a child. It has not flown for me. I have spent the past two years with her and it has felt like two years. Two years of breakfasts together. Two years of walks, talks, and shenanigans. Two years of physical, mental, and emotional milestones. Each night as she crawls into bed by herself I am reminded of how independent she is becoming. I stand there with that lump. Not because I don't want her to grow up, but because my friends were right...nothing could prepare me for how much I could possibly love her.
5 comments:
This is beautiful, Beck. She will absolutely love reading this one day. The lump will be in her throat because of how much she loves you.
I need to show her how to eat sunny-side-up eggs... then she will be grown up. Nice. Dad
"Bite Pop-Pop bite?"
Tell her to stop. We hate growing up away from you guys. Mamacita!
No worries June. She is already counting down the days until she sees you at Christmas :)
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