by - Wednesday, April 15, 2015

small person, little girl, rainy day, thoughts on things, mama in me,

She's a small girl with big imagination. She's asking and more than often comes up with her own explanation which in its simplicity is pretty much correct. We don't argue although silly as it sounds, I wait for holding an argument with her. Over major thing or just something enough encouraging not to be in the wrong. I can picture it now - she would frown and even hang her shoulders down, her nose all scrunched. And I'd kiss the nose so she would try to jump away and avoid making up unless it's her on top. Stubborn piece of blonde hair she is. And I'd never continue to wind her up, I'd give right in, she'd smile or throw her arms around me and plop her wet lips on my forehead and we could just stay like that forever. Or till dinner time.

She loves listening to stories about when she was a baby or big enough to escape the room but not quite quick to hide. I make sure to tell her the tiniest of details so she can put the pieces together and make it real in her sweet head. She smiles and interrupts with questions or her version of events. It certainly was this way but I don't entirely mind if she adds bits to the story. Her story. The other weekend night we sat plopped together on the sofa watching more of what we could already tell with eyes closed and she told me her dream. These are pretty rad, guys. Like worlds moving places and exciting meets frightening but then you can always wake up to mummy's flock of caramel hair or daddy's bristly facial misconception. Then I told her one of mine. We craved a story as we just wouldn't be sitting side by side and staring at the dazzling light even if Rapunzel was any prettier. We walked with daddy holding hands and removing hair from our faces in the howling wind while being stopped by a smile of a pretty doll looking at us from the store window. Nadia smiled looking ahead of me, probably bursting slowly inside at guessing who I was talking about. It was her, big blue eyes and a button of a nose wanting to be brought home with us. Yes, I was gently corrected by her - I did carry her in my belly once but she was so pleased knowing her life could be so different and she'd still be with us anyway, we'd find a way to bring her home, toss with kisses and get asked to tidy up her toys because she's busy drawing. Like meeting deadlines producing art. Next one, mummy. Oh, what a night - to be dreaming the many dreams she's expecting and stories she's not enough of. So we were at grandparents' house and sat in the small television room, all relaxed, some of us bathed and creamed soaking up the atmosphere. Then I started brushing her hair which began to glow and grow at the same time. Nadia's eyes widened -- what images crossed her mind I can only guess. It grew and grew, suddenly there was no room to hold it so grandma opened the window and let it fell on the street entwining the whole town with it. There was something magical about the hair, there was... 'Bees and flies in it' - she responded and I agreed with glee.

This life, our life I like thinking is made of moments I never wanna forget. In place of constant happiness I'd choose a challenge and motherhood is one that intentionally builds up on happiness in the company of a small person. Enjoy the spring, friends! x

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