We took Emerson to a local farm for a private Easter egg hunt with some of our friends. Girlfriend was diggin’ it. She got to pet baby chicks, see a calf drink from a bottle, go for a hayride and she hunted down those Easter eggs like a boss.
It was my birthday this weekend. We didn’t do much celebrating since Hubby is still in full force study mode since he defends his PhD thesis this week. I continued my normal daily duties of a stay at home mom, and mumbled about the fact that it snowed for the second year in a row on my birthday. Good grief!
Since the weekend produced nothing in the blog-worthy category, I thought we could reminisce about a birthday that happened last June. My sweet little lady bug turned one. I wrote this entry back on the eve of Emerson’s first birthday:
Apparently Emerson agrees with me as she’s been quietly boycotting bed. For two hours after we tuck her in, she wanders around her room gathering her stuffed animals and flipping through all the books she can find. It’s hard to be mad at her for staying up so late when she’s quietly reading. I mean, c’mon! Plus, let’s be real here, this face doesn’t hurt.
Sometimes motherhood feels overwhelming. You become bogged down with all the worries, anxieties, and fears of not being enough. Not providing enough love, enough creativity, enough activities. You worry about singing enough songs, reading enough books, painting enough pictures. You worry about being present but encouraging independence. You worry that you’re just not enough.
And then, it all fades away in an instant.
I was getting Emerson dressed for the day. We were layering since there was still a bitter winter chill in the air and we were headed to the park. Tights, then leggings. A blue long sleeve bodysuit. I pulled out a faded Wonder Woman tee to throw over as an easy layer. Wonder Woman with her wild – yet glamorously tamed- hair, her bold bodysuit and fearless pose swooping in to save the day.
Emerson peaked over at the shirt and her face lit up. Pointing to the woman on the shirt, she gasp, “Mama!” And just like that, all those silly fears of not being enough faded into nothingness. According to my daughter, I was Wonder Woman.
I laughed and said, “You think that’s me?” Emerson’s classic ‘yes’ nod followed. Deliberate and slow: up, down. Yes. She pointed again, “Mama! Mama!” I laughed again, but this time, I nodded in agreement. Sure, kiddo, if you want to think I’m Wonder Woman go right ahead. And in that moment in time I knew; I am enough.
It’s been quite a while since I’ve written all about the little things that happen day to day. The small moments where I take a mental snapshot hoping with all my might, that I just might remember this infinitely small moment in time.
1. You’ve recently started making lot’s of animal noises. My favorite are the pig and the cat. Anytime you see a cat, or a picture of a cat, or anything cat-like you break out in this tiny “mew” sound. Over and over. If I ask you what that [cat] is, you respond with a meow. And a pig? The pig sound is hysterical. Since you have no idea how we snort through our noses, you’ve taken to inhaling in a gasping sort of sound. It makes me laugh and worry that you’ll pass out, all at the same time.
2. You really tug on our heartstrings. You now cry out for “Mama” or “DAAAAAAD” when you’re upset it’s time for bed. It takes all our willpower not to rush in at the first call.
3. The fake smile. If I ask you to look at me and smile… I get a priceless face every time. I get scrunched up noses, wide open grins, and you usually squint your eyes. It makes me laugh every time.
4. You are insistent about signing “thank-you.” It is probably the only sign you really do anymore. But man, anytime we give you something, do something nice for you or help you do something you pat your mouth in the “thank you” sign over and over, sometimes even chasing us down until we acknowledge your “thank you,” with a “you’re welcome!” You take your manners very seriously.
5. The “yes” nod. You mastered shaking your head “no” a long time ago, but nodding “yes” is more recent. I have to say it’s a personal favorite. The deliberate head back and sharp nod is terribly cute. No subtle nods here, one maybe two or three big violent head nods complete with a serious face and all.
6. You’re still obsessed with Oliver. In fact, every morning after saying Mom, & Dad you hunt for Oliver, calling “Allll-eeeeee!” You play tug of war, keep away, and help feed him. You chase him down with his extra collars and slide them onto his neck. You tackle him in big bear hugs and lay on his back anytime you think you can get away with it. You include him in your rounds of giving everyone a kiss. Periodically throughout the day you pick up his water bowl and carefully walk to where ever he is and put it in front of his snout, making sure he’s not thirsty. I think he usually humors you and takes a lick or two to appease you. Oh yes, it’ safe to say you love your dog.