I talked to my dad yesterday and in the middle of the conversation I asked him if it ever surprised him that his children turned into real people. I have a life, an opinion, a view on the world. He said it did surprise him and went on to say that it was encouraging when he realized that his kids were all smarter than him. It made him feel like he did something right.
I wonder about those days to come when they will all question and contradict our opinions and views. When they'll have momentum and huge, complicated plans. They'll be real people then, and I'll still be me, watching it all happen.
I hope they still want to hear what I say. I hope they want to settle their head into my collar bone, just for a minute. Just to feel safe again. I hope they laugh at my jokes and get mad and tell me off like they do now. It makes me feel like things are open. Like there are no secrets. I like that. It will change and morph, but I never want them to shut off or shut me out. It will break my heart.
For today, they are wonderful. Grace's black hair is like a magnet, I can't stop touching and looking at it. Her lips curve while she talks and she's tall and beautiful. She is funny. Says all kinds of snarky things. Ruby is a little leaf. She's facing some changes herself, going into kindergarten in August. She's a tease. She's sensitive. She cries all the time. She cracks us up.
Lillie rules our world. But she's funny and runs everywhere and has been naked a lot today. She has an extremely heightened sense for bathroom humor and when she has a loud episode in her diaper in the corner of the living room, she jerks her head toward us all sitting there, throws her head back, and laughs at herself. Oh, her spirit is jumpy and strong and we adore her. Even when she holds us hostage.