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| Ainsley the lovely from Summer '09 |
Ainsley love is on my mind. We sure had some sweet moments together today. She didn't nap long or really at all if anyone was counting...maybe a 45 minute snooze which is just amateur for her. So when I heard her calling for me mid-afternoon I was at first a little bummed to find my alone time cut short, but secretly I was elated that we'd have some time just we two. This love is growing so fast. Her baby looks are muted now, trumped by her budding preschooler appearance. But she's just all baby to me. My baby. I guess when you know it's your last one you just hang on for dear life. At least that's what it feels like to me. So much of me wants to bottle her tiny-ness and keep her little. But I don't know why exactly. It's not like I don't positively adore mothering a five year old anymore than her. Each stage has its own rewards... but there's nothing like a baby love. No one like Ainsley.
So we cuddled a good bit today. Her long legs wrapped around my waist. I gladly made dinner with one hand, refusing to forfeit my prize for a nap-less day. More hugs from the girl. Her downy hair smells so good. Her skin so silky. I love how she wants to *help* me with things. And sometimes in her desire to help she'll hand me things I have absolutely no need for in that moment -- such as a jar of pickles as I'm mashing up potatoes. But I can't resist the way she says "You're welcome" after I graciously thank her. Her lilting voice goes up so high at the end of her phrasing like she's the happiest southern belle in Texas... but of course we live in Minnesota - which makes it all the more endearing.
She loves Cinderella (Show-rella) so much she can scarcely keep it in. So tonight when she asked if we could watch it I could not deny her. We laid on the couch together - just we two. Dirk and Emie were having a book reading marathon together, happily cuddled under piles of blankets in her room. So it was more of the sweet stuff - the rare stolen moments when I can be fully undivided in my attention to her. I'm aware of it. The fact that all she's known is a mom who has another child to care for. Emie didn't have that - she had me - 100% me - so I am ever thinking of how I can maximize our time together (alone). Anyway there was just something about the way she cuddled into me. The way she beamed, "The daddy's here!" when the Prince took Cinderella's hand, and when she gasped in mock surprise as Cinderella's slipper was left behind on the castle steps. The whole thing... every minute of our time was fairy tale to me.
Earlier in the day as we sat together she got her little bear and sat on the steps. She patted the spot next to her and suggested to me, "Sit down, mamma," And so we sat together this way. Me next to her with her bear in her lap. And she just loved that little bear up like no body's business. She rocked him and patted him and cooed him soft and sweet. As I watched her I thought, I've not taught her this love of mothering--it's as natural as the day is long (and the days are long). She just took to that little stuffed one like he was her cub -- hers to raise. It struck me somehow (again) how extraordinarily fortunate I am to get to mother.
Most of us are born with the desire to raise someone up as our own - from our earliest days it's what we do for play, for comfort, for fun. Now I'm not about to imply that everyone is destined to babysit, work at Romper Room (there's only one Miss Marti after all!), or even be a mother. But some of us can't deny a soul-deep desire to make someone all better. To take care of someone else someway, somehow. But for me it was altogether a desire to mother. It was bursting from the marrow of my bones for years but couldn't be freed for lack of opportunity. Lack of fertility. But then, because of nothing short of unmerited favor - it happened against the odds. The fairy tale came true. I'd be nothing but an ingrate if I didn't find some happily ever after in these magical days of mothering.
Anyone relate to any of this? Talk to me... I'd love some comments~
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