winds of change

these days the wind is quietly shuffling out summer and her hot rays, and in the same breeze, eagerly pushing in a softer warmth which is tinged with a crisp change. i am no longer momma, i have now become mommy. this little difference is an earthquake in my world, leaving ripples of aftershocks in her wake. her voice emphasizes the eee at the end and i shiver with delight each time it reaches my ears. i can't put my finger on why she has suddenly switched my title, because rory doesn't refer to me as mommy and i don't use it to refer to myself, but i welcome it. the same way i welcome the fact she is morphing into my little friend, as opposed to this little being i am responsible for. this little friend who conspires with me how to build the best fort possible, when we should be picking up and getting dinner ready. this little friend who i enjoy a frozen yogurt with on a sunny september afternoon. this little friend who makes me belly laugh and approach everything with the fascination of a toddler.

there are, in fact, advantages to being an extremely petite 4'11" momma; i am the only one at the park climbing on the play structures with my girl, counting down our descent from the top of the slides, holding her tight as we twist down the slippery slopes, her laughter exploding into the air promptly upon our arrival at the bottom.

i want to be the mommy that lets her jump on the bed, eat ice cream for breakfast, and teaches her how to feed her soul and see it grow to the breadth of its capacity, value her self worth over a boy's opinion, and knows how to stand up for herself in a way that is bold, and yet with rounded blurry edges that fade into kindness. you can be nice and at the same time not take anyone's bull; it is a fine, intricate, delicate balance.

i want to be the mommy that is there; every moment of every day, in every week of every month. the mommy that is present in each crack of a moment when you recognize it and poof...it starts to slip away.

the other night she was carrying around a photo from our trip to san francisco; she had scribbled on the backside of it with pen. for half a second i was ready to be frustrated over the fact she had ruined it. but she had this deep pride in her eyes when she held it up to my face, she was showing off her masterpiece, and she was utterly elated to be doing so. how could i be upset over that? i can print another photo any day, however i cannot recreate a moment so vital to her budding confidence.

she is saying more, owwie, and moon these days. my favorite thing right now is when she says something and i figure out what it is. she grins like the cheshire cat; message received. she gets so excited, her entire body shows her glee. communicating with her in this way is a new ballgame; one i am  pumped to be a part of. is there anything better watching the little being you helped create, learning every day, yet completely extraordinary skills?

lately in the mornings when we wake up, i watch her smooth movements, her toddler body doing things that seem so mature, her eyes sparkling with possibility, her teeth set into a grin, ready for the adventures of a new day. i stare at her and wonder how someone so perfect could have come from a body such as mine, where so much is wrong.

it is really quite incredible.
still.