You grew in the night.
I say this to you sometimes when I come to get you in the morning. I whisper in your ear … You grew in the night. I put you to bed and then by morning you have changed. Your face, your hands.
You grew in the night.
There are so many things I want to be sure to remember but I fear they are slipping away already.
I want to remember how you stretch when you wake up in the morning. Big stretches with your arms high above your head and your little legs flung out in front of you.
I want to remember how much you hated diaper changes when you were very small. You would cry and cry. I want to remember how, later, you didn’t mind be changed and would even giggle while your father got you ready for bed.
I want to remember nursing you in bed and how wonderful and sweet that was even when I was tired from being up in the night.
I want to remember your laughs and giggles and the many other noises you make.
I want to remember every minute because I know you can’t. I want to remember because if I don’t, who will?
I want to remember so that when I am old and you have gone off to make your way in the world I can savor the memories of when you were so small and consumed me completely.
[I wrote this post a long time ago, but never published it. Today seems like the appropriate day.]
We were all down on the corner by 7:15 a.m. Yes, all of us. Sam in his stroller. Daddy, toting the camera. Anashar (our nanny) who normally doesn’t arrive until 8, but who would not have missed this for anything. Maddie, clutching her lunch bag, her backpack and Tubby. Me, clutching my heart.
The bus pulled up to the wrong building and had to turn around. The driver was a bit flustered. First day jitters for all.
Buses for wee ones include a matron who helps the kids on and off the bus. The matron looked a little alarmed when I climbed up with Maddie. “Are you coming too?” she asked. “No, no,” I said, though the thought suddenly crossed my mind. “Just making sure she’s okay.” Maddie was strapped into her car seat, I gave her a quick kiss and hopped off.
The doors closed and just like that the bus was off. I immediately began to cry. Oh my god. What if she’s scared? What if they don’t understand when she asks for something? What if she spends all day crying? WHAT HAVE I DONE???
I went to the school around 12:30 and huddled in the doorway of the classroom watching her eat her lunch. So grown up.
By all accounts she did great. She recognized her Dora lunch bag (thank you Bubbe!) when lunches were handed out. (My kids don’t miss meals.) She played with the other kids. She did not pee in the potty, but one day at a time, right?
She came home and took the nap of all naps. It’s a long day. As weird as the timing is, I’m glad she has the next two days off for Rosh Hashanah. She is excited to go back on Monday.
I’m better now though I have cried about three more times.
Preston will put up pictures later. Meanwhile, here’s a cute one from my iPhone: