We’re snuggled together in the dark room rubbing noses and talking.
“When did you get so big?”
“Daddy made you big?”
“Uh huh” she nods and smiles behind the paci that I really should get around to weaning her from.
“You want mama to sing?”
So I hold her tight and sing her “mama song” (not to be confused with Daddy song, those are his lullabies I am not allowed to sing them).
I try to take the whole moment in, brief as it is in the darkness of night. Moments like this is with the child who healed a broken heart are few and far between now. There is a new baby demanding time and attention that only mommy can give.
She is coming into her own personality, it’s exploding out of her and blossoming faster than her and I can keep up with.
She is our most toddlerish toddler. Getting into things and doing things that our others never did. She dances on tables, steals cookies from the table and throws her body flat out on the floor in tantrum.
She is also still the most loving child I have ever meet. She always offers to share her food. She can’t walk by the baby without kissing him. If someone is hurt or upset she gives them hugs and kisses, tears do not go unanswered or noticed by her.
It’s been a tough adjustment for her. Going from being the littlest one that had mommy to herself all day long to sharing time and space with her new brother. I’ve had times of doubt wondering if I broke her spirit by making her an older sister.
But in these small stolen moments in the early morning before her baby brother rises or when I can sneak away at bedtime I can see she’s still there. The little loving angel that healed our hearts is still there, she’s just growing up, learning her place in the world and our family. Sometimes her passion comes through in loud and tantruming ways and sometimes it’s in the sweet kisses on her brothers head.