I have to say, putting Little Sister down for her nap is one of my favorite times of day. It's such a relief, because it was never this way with The Boy (still isn't, as a matter of fact). When it's Little Sister's naptime, 90% of the time she's sleepy and sweet, 7% of the time she's silly and playful (and then crashes), and only 3% of the time is it a struggle. When I hold her in the rocking chair, feeding her a bottle as her eyelids flutter, I hold on to her babyhood for just a few moments. I always stay a little longer than I need to--sometimes because I want to escape another game of Candy Land for a few more minutes, but usually, because I can't tear myself away from staring at her lovely little sleeping face. I swear, she's a cute kid anyway, but there's something about that utter relaxation of a baby in repose that is indescribably beautiful.
Sometimes I think about Little Sister almost a year ago, just an infant. Other times I look at her and imagine the little girl she will be in two years. I even get carried away sometimes and imagine holding Little Sister's own baby someday, if I'm given the opportunity to be a grandmother. I can't help myself--this is my last baby, and every moment like this counts.
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Wow, I wrote this just over a week ago. I was waiting to post until I got some pictures of Little Sister sleeping. Then something happened. Little Sister is totally, totally fine, but the day after I wrote this, I got distracted and she took a tumble and I have been reliving the moment I found her crying at the bottom of the stairs the whole week. It puts a whole new layer on what I was thinking about before; how precious she is, how amazing. We could have had a tragedy this week, but instead, I have a million new opportunities to appreciate this wonderful little person in my life. I admit, I've been using it as a reason to linger even a little more in the rocking chair before resting her sweet little body in the crib.
I took this picture the day after the fall. That scrape on her nose was the only injury. |
I just read this post aloud to Kathy and Mary, Brian's Grandma, and we all got teary eyed. I loved what you wrote, and how true that brushes with tragedy make us more awake to the preciousness of our children. So sorry about her fall, but so glad you're writing about her. Love you both!
ReplyDeleteThanks Jill--it felt good to get it down, even though it meant exposing one of my mothering low points!
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