Mara summitted Pikes Peak before she was two!
At the Cliff Dwellings in Manitou Springs
Smelling a $250 flower at Seven Minute Station
The Fountain of Youth
Two days before she was two years
It's almost unbelievable to me that Tomorrow's babyhood has flown by, even though there were some very long days and nights over the past two years! It feels as though her babyhood was set to warp speed, and I think I missed out a bit. Even though I know for sure that I cherished *her*, and I learned to take each day one day at a time and said thank you for each and every one we had with her, I held back just a bit of my heart for fear that she could have been taken from us. I do feel like now I am allowing myself to live as if our future is secure, even though it isn't official, and there is a definite change in that I have noticed I've begun to feel more put-upon more often! I think this is a normal part of accepting her as ours. When I refer to her as "One more dirty laundry-producer", it means she is one of us. I swear I do an extra load of laundry a day now that I have a girl in the house! But I do remind myself to savor the milestones and the moments like her spinning around in her dress or lifting it over her head and pretending to be a ballerina, because I may not have another daughter. And in just four weeks, she will have been with us for two years (because she was placed with us at five weeks of age), so I will be sure to spend that day honoring the gift of a daughter with which we have been entrusted.
Meanwhile, Tomorrow is a typical two-year-old in many ways. My days are punctuated by her telling me "No Mommy!" or calling me "Dummy Mommy!" (as I try not to smile or laugh at her petulant independence); her loudly exclaiming "Pee! Pee!" as she whips off her g-diaper mostly so she can run around without any pants on for a half an hour (all the while not squeezing out a single droplet of urine); her screeching if anyone dares to change the channel from "Abby and Elmo" (Sesame Street)*; her yelling "Bobble!" (bottle) at me when she suddenly decides she cannot eat food fast enough to fill her little belly; her demanding that I put "paint" on her nails over and over until I stop and do so; her yelling "Cudders" when she wants the crayons, and so on...she is such a boisterous little thang, and is so much larger than life as they say, that I sometimes forget she is only two until she's asleep and only taking up one eighth of her big girl bed.
*The other day, she was laying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling and zoning out. I asked her, "What are you thinking about?" and she said, "Elmo. And Abby," in a very serious little voice. It was the cutest thing, because she was absolutely sincere. I forced myself not to laugh.
Yet in many ways she is so atypical, with her sweetness and understanding of human emotions. She can sense when one of her brothers are not feeling well and will tilt her head and say, "Okay, brubber? Owie?" She can tell when I am overwhelmed and will say, "Nuggle, Mommy?" as if to say, Let's go lay down and snuggle, 'cause this can wait. The way she wraps her baby doll in a blanket and shushes her to sleep while holding her makes my heart swell with pride that THAT is how she has learned to treat a baby, rather than the way she was mistreated before she came to be with us. It is nothing short of a miracle! Sometimes I feel as if I am trapped in a monotonous cycle of cooking, dishes and laundry. But if Tomorrow comes up to me and pulls on my hand or hugs my leg, it forces me to snap out of thinking negatively, and to focus on what an amazing family we are and what a blessing is Tomorrow. Most days I feel so challenged, grateful, humble, overwhelmed and proud all at once that I can't put my feelings into words so I don't even attempt to do so. I know now that Tomorrow was absolutely supposed to be with us.
She is unlike any child I have ever known. As much as she gets frustrated with my inability to instantaneously be and do all things for her at all times, daily she tells me, "Dank you, Mommy" and I know she means it. She thanks me for changing her g-diaper, for doing her hair, for dressing her, for starting her Barbie and the Diamond Castle DVD in her bedroom for the 50th time.
Though she apparently abhors all other movies in the Barbie genre and refuses to even watch the first minute of any of the five her father bought her, "B and the D.C.", as I call it, is currently her favorite movie She is obsessed with it, and she holds up her pink Barbie remote, pretends it is a microphone and sings, "Uh-nected, Uh-nected, uh-nected" (Connected) and she demands that I also hold a remote and sing along with her. Luckily we got her pink Disney princess TV on Craigslist, so it came with three useless pink remotes from three other pink Disney devices, and they make excellent pretend microphones.
One day she had the entire family in her room and made us all sing Connected with her. If she noticed one of us wasn't singing, she would order us to sing! ("DADDY! SING!") It was one of those Hallmark movie moments that almost made me sick with its pink sweetness. How did such a small girl trick me into accepting two things I swore would NEVER be allowed in my home? (Barney and Barbie) Apparently, she is already quite adept at getting her way.
Still, how can I begrudge all of my filthy and thankless household chores when I have a grateful and mindful *toddler* in my home? Somehow I find a way, but I do feel sufficiently guilty about it whenever she comes up to me with a book and says, "Read me, Mommy?" or when I am lying in bed at night after the three angels are fast asleep. She makes me stop and smell the roses. She reminds me of what is important, that we can choose our family and our path in life and that every single day, no matter how monotonous or uneventful, is an ordinary miracle.
