July 1, 2014

Eggs

My baby girl still wanders upstairs and finds me in the mornings. I especially appreciate the weekends, when her well-rested face greets me as soon as she wakes and says, "Goot morning, Mama."

Her hair is sassy and crazy, ever still. Her eyes are so bright and her skin smells so sweet and Mabel-y.

Some mornings she waits for me to make breakfast for "just us girls." She always requests fried eggs and she likes her eggs over medium, thank you very much.

I let her help me.




This child helps me more than she will ever know. So much like me that it is both frightening and endearing. She is full of life and excitement. She is spontaneous and unafraid. Unshy and willing to do anything - and be the best at it.




And she sits with me talking about little girl goings-on like bracelets and Dashiel in her kindergarten class, and I love her up. She is so loving back. Sometimes, we sit beside each other on the couch, watch the Golden Girls, and hold hands. Sometimes she sits quietly eating her eggs and looks up at me to smile in between bites.




Each of my kids is magnificent and special and the place they each hold in my heart is the size of a mountain. But the boys are growing up and would prefer to sleep in most mornings. Hayley is only here half of the weekend mornings. So that leaves me and this one, who absolutely steals my heart.

I'm grateful. I'm missing these moments today.



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