Little feet hit hard against my knees.
When did she get so long?
She screams as I press her tight against me. Memories of colic flooding back. Now she’s bigger and I know it will stop within minutes instead of hours. Still, night terrors bring all the same feelings back. Please. Make. It. Stop. Please.
Two years, today.
I’ve revisited each moment of anticipation for the past week. Going into the hospital to get checked. Sleeping every afternoon to build strength for the nightly contractions. Returning to the hospital again. An entire family anxious in the waiting room. And, finally, at 8:27 this morning, the moment when she was handed to me and everything changed.
Two years.
Everything is Thomas the Train now, even the little boy undies she’d prefer to wear outside. Obligatory morning hugs for her “grumpy” dogs. “I missed you” breaking and healing my heart simultaneously. Embraces worthy of a luchador, making me a little sorry for those maybe not-so-grumpy dogs. Wash everything, hands and blankies, but never teeth. “Mine” for all things she wants and “yours” for all things she doesn’t. The sweetest sleeping face I’ve ever seen, legs that seem to reach for the far end of the bed, or more often her dad’s face.
Two.
Leap of Mama 
Wow, I can’t believe it’s been two years…
Such a sweet post 🙂 happy 2nd birthday, E!!!
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A sweet tribute to your daughter.
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Beautiful description of the beauty of two. And thanks for taking me on my own trip down memory lane and the memories I still have mine when they were that age. It’s all so fantastic and unreal and ever-changing. Thank you for sharing this with us.
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Sorry for being the slowest responder to comments ever. My computer time is so unpredictable these days! Thanks for the kind words, glad I can bring you back, it’s something I always hope to remember too 🙂
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