Wednesday, March 31, 2010

A good night.

We went out together tonight, just you and I. We first stopped at Old Navy. I wrapped you in my jacket as we ran from the car in the snowstorm. It's funny, you insisted on leaving the house in only a t-shirt. After all, we were going to buy you a new sweatshirt. So it makes sense. You were uninterested in shopping in general, flitting about and buying a bouncy ball. You tried on jeans in the fitting room, barely glancing at them. You were much more interested in making elaborate faces in the mirror.

What has gotten into you? You are so entertained by yourself these days.

Something perked you up after we bought some shirts. Barnes and Noble was next door. We hunched down in the weather and hurried over there. If I had any doubt that you were a shopper, it was shattered after ten minutes of being in that store. You could not make up your mind. This series is better than this series because of this.

There was a moment when I just stopped and stared at you. It was when you were looking through a children's book about paper dolls and fashion. Your neck craned down, your new sweatshirt that you are already in love with was zipped up tightly, and you sank into one hip. Your skin was radiant and you had no idea anyone else existed. I couldn't take it.

How am I out with you, a beautiful 7 year old, talking about other first graders and Easter and Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Junie B. Jones? And another part of me is carrying a baby in my belly. A possibility. A miracle. A chance at another amazing configuration. So much perspective I have now!

I am in constant awe. I try to keep my jaw shut, I do, but on nights like this, it gapes open. I look at my oldest daughter in the rear view as I drive up a snowy hill. Your face is so open. You concentrate on your book (Bad Kitty Takes a Bath) and don't say a word. You've been a delight. And we've had an evening together where I'm not working crowd control. I'm focused on you. Sometimes I miss you so badly. In the chaos and the hurried bedtime routine and catching my breath after caring for Lillie, I really miss you. You used to be our only one. How life has changed!

It was nice to be out with you tonight. And Graciegirl, you are fantastic.


ingrid said...

Sarie, You bring tears to my eyes with almost every post & this is one no exception. You say everything I cant but so badly want to in relation to my kids & my husband. I want to copy & paste every post & pretend its mine. loving you & your family from so far away!!

Lynnie said...

i feel the same about my oldest. it's crazy how we go through phase and stages, and right now I'm the cool one in her eyes. It feels nice to be back there when the 3 year old is totally opposite. Good post girlie.

Jodi said...

She will treasure these moments in years to come because you captured them on paper! Miss you guys!

jakenapril said...

my sentiments exactly...about 7 year olds. sometimes i wish for a time machine.

kristen said...

so beautifully written felt like I was there with you two! Those are def. the moments....sounds like a perfect mommy and Grace night!!!! :)xoxo

kristen said...

so beautifully written felt like I was there with you two! Those are def. the moments....sounds like a perfect mommy and Grace night!!!! :)xoxo

Jessie said...