Four years. Only four years that I have been blessed to be your mother, and yet it feels like I have known you forever. This age has such poignancy for me. When I look into your eyes, I see wisdom and a glimpse of the maturity that you will one day have, but I also see the playfulness and youth still of your baby years. The baby stage is leaving soon, I can tell. On some days, you laugh at my subtle jokes or look me in the eyes and nod silently, and I just know that you “get it”. You giggle with me when your baby sister does something silly, and almost roll your eyes (you haven’t quite mastered the actual act of eye-rolling) and give me that exasperated look. You understand when I’m having a rough day, even when I don’t tell you. And you are so proud of yourself when I tell you I’m happy with something special that you have done.
You still love snuggle time with your mom. Each night, for five minutes or so, you ask me to crawl into bed with you. You whisper “Mommy” and wrap your hands around my face. We lay in the dark and play the game “what was your favorite and least favorite thing of the day?” Last week, when I asked you your favorite thing, your answer was, “This. Snuggling with you, Mommy.” <sigh> Oh how I will miss it one day when you don’t want to snuggle. When your favorite things will be boys or your new best friends or trendy clothes. I want to bottle up your innocence and keep it in my heart. But I suppose I do. With my camera, and also, with the snapshots that I mentally take.
You are my sunshine, sweet girl. You truly are.