I have been a whirlwind as of late, and my head has been dizzy with ideas. Spring is approaching, and I itch to create and breathe and dream. I have passed this along to my daughter, and it makes me proud. She is me only better.
We play dollhouse. She picks dollhouse with Mommy over TV. And I am overwelmed. We will lay next to each other in her bed, not speaking, just enjoying each other's company, her head resting on my arm, each of us curled in to one another. Suddenly, she'll grab my hand in hers and whisper, "Mommy?" Yes? "I love you." And my heart bursts.
This morning, we enter her classroom, and as I ask for my daily hug and kiss, she wraps herself around me and says, "I want to stay with you today." I feel all-consumed and a painful ripping in my chest because I can't. I can't stay with her today. I have to let her go. I promise more dollhouse tonight, mentally cancelling plans to meet up with a friend. She happily agrees and sits down to color.
My girl is me, only better.
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