My daughter sits confidently on
my hip with one arm wrapped around my shoulder as we make our way through the
maze of St. Patrick’s Day Parade participants. She peers at the crowd and back
at me with one of her all-knowing expressions. Her face seems to say that she
has seen this all before. I give her a gentle squeeze and a look that says, “Well,
you haven’t actually, but you are wise beyond your years.”
My daughter is turning two this
weekend. I have spent the last several days navigating various toy stores
looking for the ideal gift and decorations for the big event. Foolishly I tried
to engage my daughter in the latter, holding up countless decorations to her to
see if she gravitated toward any, but there was always a shiny ball on the
horizon, a swishy stuffed animal or something else that struck her fancy. At
the end, I went with Tinker Bell décor because I liked the color scheme and
matching balloons, but the importance of the affair isn’t lost on me.
It is, in truth, both exciting
and a little sad to see your children age. On one hand, it is absolutely
fascinating and invigorating to watch them transform into little individuals.
On the other, the mere transformation itself can make you long for days past.
It seems only weeks ago I was holding my daughter tightly against my chest in
the delivery room. Her beautiful big eyes staring up at me with one of her now
familiar omniscient gazes. She was born with the same self-assurance that she
has today.
But with every passing year, and
indeed every passing day, there are more changes. Always the daredevil, her
actions are now more calculating and exact. Her unwavering determination which
was literally visible at birth remains steadfast, but the consequence of the
action at hand appears to be more top of mind. Her vocabulary and eagerness to
communicate have accelerated, and it is clear that her mind is learning at an
elevated pace. Even her body, which was forever one big belly surrounded by slim
limbs, has begun to transform into a leaner silhouette.
I imagine my
daughter on her birthday wearing a new dress and with her hair pulled away from
her face – just the way she likes it – surrounded by Tinker Bell balloons, and
then I think of the many more changes ahead. Today she is a toddler; tomorrow a
little girl. There I go again, getting a little melancholy. The truth of the
matter is that this journey through time, this journey from infant to child to
adult is what I signed up for from the start. It is the awesome responsibility of
encouraging my daughter to be all that she already is and all that she dreams
of being - and welcoming the changes. It is a gift, and I wouldn’t change even one aspect
of it for anything. Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!
Embrace Your MOMentum
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