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Everyday Miracles

I wish I could say something here that would lead you all to believe the tyrannosaurus rex living in our home had moved out.  Alas.  P.S. This post is going to get better.  Promise.

I’ve had a resurgence of that ridiculous baby envy again.  You know the kind when you talk to/read about another mother who has a miracle child.  I know that there’s a filter there.  Certainly they are more discreet about their child’s (and their own) failings.  We, on the other hand, have no way of coping except to blurt out everything on our minds, which ranges from RR is a genius to RR has killed me and buried me in a shallow grave.  I suspect our balance is a bit off.  We tell you all more of the latter (because you are our lifeline to the sane) and tell our touchable friends more about the daily miracles.  Possibly you hate us less than they do.  Also, I should probably be more balanced.

That said, I’ve read a lot and heard a lot lately about 19-month olds who have cooked banquets for their parents, who have written Caldecott-worthy books and who speak with the tongues of a thousand angels.  I’m jealous.  And shallow.  But I’m also patient and I know that someday she’s going to wow me with all of the above at an age-appropriate moment.  In the meantime, I appreciate the everyday miracles.  Feeling jealous like me this week?  Read my last and you’ll love, love, love your own budding genius.

RR sings in tune.  We sing a few notes and she sings ’em right back.  RR dances in time.  She weaves and bobs and shimmies and grooves.  She beams and is gorgeous while she does it.  Singing the Hokey Pokey to her is like unlocking the boss on a video game – we’ve no idea what she’s learned at school so we just try various moves until we hit on one she knows.  It’s like we’ve all won the lottery.  I had no idea she could stomp on command (and she had no idea I knew how to tell her).  There is riotous laughter at practically every accomplishment.  She knows where her elbow is?  Hysteria and clapping.  We are functioning idiots.  It’s beautiful.

RR knows how to wash her hands.  She loves the vacuum, tries to sweep and throws food on the floor like a star pitcher.  She looks at my gardens with awe and she runs through the grass with spirit that would make Pele blush.  She is a talented mimic and an enthusiastic climber.  She can slide and climb ladders when assisted.  She greets everyone she sees and wishes them good fortune when they leave (i.e. bye!) RR eats spinach for breakfast.

She makes me tear up she’s so cute.  Thank you for your understanding and forbearance and your own imperfect selves and children.  And here’s to that moment when they all win the Nobel Peace Prize and we look at at other knowingly and say we knew they could do it.



One Response

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