Friday, May 22, 2015

Watching Her Grow

Why work, when you can play in the sandbox?

That's my girl, the one who has had a smile on her face from the moment that first real food - a Chicago, deep dish pizza crust - crossed her lips.  She wanted to join the party, and once she did, she's rarely found it wanting.

Not to say that there haven't been moguls along the way. Simply to say that we've found our way through, relatively unscathed, and still speaking to those we love.

That's the talent she has, my little girl. She's honest, and not shy about speaking her mind, but the words are so obviously true and from her heart and there's not an ounce of condescension or taunting to be found, so you are forced to listen and hear her and learn.

Say what you mean, woman! she would cry, and I'd stop dancing and start singing.

And then, when we'd said what needed to be said, she would move on.  Why wallow in the past when the future's so bright, you have to wear shades?

I admit that I have been slower to learn that particular lesson, but that's because I find that I spend some time marveling at the adult human giving instruction, instead of improving my behavior. There have always been Mom Improvement Projects (don't talk so loud, so much, so often....), but this is an Improved Child sharing her learned wisdom with a Mom still in need of Improvement.

And she does it with love.

She had always been a wonderful kid; now she is a wonderful grown up.

Remembering..... I stand in her kitchen, wondering where the splatter screen might be hiding, and she laughs, gently shaking her head, and, as she tells me it is no where because she doesn't have one I flash to G'ma wondering where my aprons were stored.... and to my own, gentle laughter, as I gave the same reply.

It's a memory from my adulthood, not a college apartment reminiscence.  And now I have the same memory from my daughter's adulthood.

And still, she's my little girl.  She's the one who read all the Babysitters Club books and those pink ones about the ponies and who listened to Rosalind-the-Bookseller's suggestions to expand her horizons, too.

She's the one who was surprised that everyone else hadn't figured out the simplest thing, Mom.  If you don't fight with anyone then you can sit anyplace at lunchtime.  

It's been a pleasure to be around you for the last three decades, Little Cuter.  Happy Happy Birthday to YOU!


  1. The pleasure was all mine, mama 😍 (and those pink books about the ponies were the Thoroughbred series!).

    Love love love you!


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