Heidi woke up from her afternoon nap a while ago. I went in to get her and she was sitting up in the middle of my bed, smiling brightly, and she cocked her head and waved at me. My heart just about broke, looking at this roly-poly bundle of love with her halo of gold hair, rosy cheeks, angelic grin and new pearly teeth, this cherub fallen into my bed.
Then I had this thought, this illogical thought that I had a few times with Addie, too-- in a split second, I thought to myself, "This cannot be the tiny baby I had last year, this angel cannot have sprung from me...but she must be mine because, you know, I've had her the whole time and no one has come for her." Isn't that funny? I seriously have this weird time warp thing where I just look at this big ol' baby and wonder where did the time go? How did you get so big in an hour? And I always conclude that this baby must be mine because no one has come for her. Weird, my brain.
PS: Weird thing that Addie does: When she makes Heidi cry, she immediately starts singing, "Twinkle Little Star" at warp speed, a little louder than Heidi happens to be crying, a lame attempt at (a) consoling her sister and (b) saving her own hide from getting in trouble for making her sister cry in the first place.
1 comment:
I'm envyous of people, like you, who can articulate, so well, what I'm feeling! They grow up all too fast. Funny. I tell Sarah to eat her veggies to "grow big and strong" and then I turn around and ask her to "please stop growing" so that she can be my little girl forever. She always says "I promise I'll be a nice teenager to you, mom." :)
Post a Comment