Thursday, May 09, 2013

These Moments

It's been a week of crocodile tears. Big, fat crocodile tears combined with shoulder-heaving sobs. A week of second-guessing my mothering instincts, as I waver between, "you're not that sick, get to school," and "come here, scooch up on my lap, let me wipe those tears away."

My spitfire 5-year old has gotten a little off-track. Her usual stubborn confidence has faltered as she hugs me, follows my every move around the house, and clings to my leg. And I'm guessing it's more than the chest cold that's bothering her.

This was our scene yesterday afternoon:

Lying around in Isabelle's sunlit room, piles of pillows and blankets and stuffies covering the thickly woven rug. Kaiya had pulled them all in, saying it was like "our own apartment." And instead of loudly demanding my attention as I tended to Izzy, she quietly set up the room, lingering.

"What's missing mom?"
"I don't know, I think we have all we need."
"I know... some glasses of water."

"What's missing mom?"
"I don't know. What do you think?"
"How about some books?"

"What's missing mom?"
"I don't think anything's missing."
"Some marshmallows. Wouldn't it be nice to have a campfire?"
(I drew the line.)

And we sat, while I rocked Isabelle to sleep, Kaiya quietly playing with blocks, using her whispering voice. Then we lay, side by side, reading stories together as Isabelle slept in her crib. And I silently reassured her, over and over again, one hundred times or more... It's okay. You're mine. I love her, but I love you just as much. I'm so happy to have her, but I'm just as thrilled to have you. And the angst in her slowly calmed as she relaxed into our unusually quiet day, full of hugs and kisses and these silent affirmations of love.

She got to school this morning, still a little unsure of herself. I usually enjoy the quiet of the house, the reprieve from her never-ending demands and energy. But today, I miss her. She's still a little sick, but I'm hoping her heart's feeling a bit more full.

Some days, you've got to just spend the day making playdoh faces

And taking lots of pictures of the playdoh faces...


Erika said...

you are wonderful mom kathy and kaiya is blessed to have you. you are amazingly aware, much more than i was and i know kaiya will be celebrating you as her mother for the rest of her life! said...

Beautiful Kathy. I love your homey stories. I agree with Erika, you're very aware, and attentive. Good for you. Happy Mother's Day.