Just Write {68}

January 14, 2013

There are lines in the wood on the bedside table. Just one small area with slight scratches in a circle, from the bottom of my tea cup. There’s another deeper and lighter scratch from Elsie pulling my mug across the tabletop right as I said oooh, don’t touch.

These lines are familiar now, a place to set my tea cup every night when I climb under the covers to read.

I notice that bigger and deeper scratch on the table sometimes. I think of Elsie. The way she climbs and pulls everything off of things and is so fearless and yes, defiant. I smile, even though it’s not easy sometimes, these days with a toddler so fierce. This girl is mighty and she will let you know with her roar. Then she’ll come close and put her head on your lap while softly saying aaahhhh. This is the only way she has to say she’s sorry for the outburst.

She shouts when we’re in the car, saying a different version of aaah ah aaaah until we remember that all she wants is music. Loud.

Every night she chats non-words to herself for about an hour before falling asleep. She’s all done being nursed and then all done even being rocked for a few minutes before transitioning to her crib. There it is, suddenly, the end of the baby stage. She has thrown us all straight into the little girl days. Her Daddy and I are both a bit stunned, looking back and forward at once, heads shaking.

She still pulls the baby game of losing her pacifier on purpose, tossing it out of the crib and then calling Mama Mama Mama…then she laughs when I come through the door and I reach around in the dark, my hand brushing over too much wood floor under-the-crib dust until I bump the paci, snatch it up, pop it in and tell her no more.

Sometimes it happens again and again and then there’s stillness and quiet. I miss the nursing and the rocking.

And I’m loving the new girl with the baby girl inside us both, always.

:::

This is the 68th installment of Just Write, an exercise in free writing your ordinary and extraordinary moments. {Please see the details here.} I would love to read your freely written words so join me and link up below. You can add the url of your post at any time. Just be sure it’s a link to your Just Write post, not to your main page, and please don’t link to posts that are not freely written in the spirit of capturing moments–you know, don’t link to how-to lists or sponsored posts. I am far from a jerk, but I want people to remember that this is about writing and not about traffic. If you’re linking to everything you’ve found to link to that day, you probably are not fulfilling the requirements of each link-up. Also,  please link back to this post in your post so people know where to go if they’d like to join in. (Any links not following those two guidelines will be deleted.) (Please don’t make me delete stuff because it feels mean.) 

Also. Please take a moment to visit someone else who has linked up! It’s a really good way to meet new writers and get inspired by the meaning behind their moments. Word? Thank you!



{ 12 comments }

Jo@Mylestones January 14, 2013 at 10:16 pm

Oh, yes, straight into the little girl stage you go. I too have a girl with a mighty roar. She cried on and on and ON as a baby. Then she tantrummed her way through toddlerhood. And now I’m dealing with the sass of a 14 year old at the ripe old age of 6. But somehow she’s still the delight of my life, the one who melts me with her koala bear hugs and spontaneous “I love yous” (which I suspect often have some manipulative undertones, but still. :-) ) . Anyway, this lovely piece was about YOUR little girl, not mine. So I’ll be quiet now. Beautiful writing, as always, my friend! xoxo

Kerstin January 15, 2013 at 12:16 am

Beautiful, Heather – as always.
I remember the pacifier-throwing-game from my girl Pauline, who is now throwing teenager “dramantrums” at 15 years old.
I bet Elsie has a great belly laugh – that’s one thing my kids have kept to this day and I love it.
Kerstin recently posted..cold feet

melissa January 15, 2013 at 6:22 am

my baby girl is fast approaching this exact thing. honestly, it is so bitter sweet. i love having a baby but seeing her grow and have personality is so fun!

Suki January 15, 2013 at 6:23 am

I am with you. Breaking habbits which i thought never end, like rocking to sleep and nursing. They ended far too soon. All I want to say is, i am sitting the same corner as you :)
Marveling at the not so little one.
Suki recently posted..rambling along

Tricia January 15, 2013 at 8:27 am

Oh you just took me back to a couple of years ago with my girl. That paci game – glad to know my girl wasn’t the only one to play it!
Tricia recently posted..fresh air and new roads

nicole January 15, 2013 at 9:01 am

My post today is about our baby not being so much a baby anymore. It is such a strange time.

Stephanie Precourt January 15, 2013 at 9:33 am

She is already so big!

Steph
Stephanie Precourt recently posted..Time Traveler

JenniferPeterson January 15, 2013 at 10:15 am

Love this!!!

Malisa January 15, 2013 at 11:13 am

Thank you for hosting such a fun link-up. Mandie (moxiemandie) had joined you a few months ago and I’ve been following your blog ever since. Today’s my first time linking up. I hope you have a great day!

Babies growing up is so challenging. I really enjoyed your story.
Malisa recently posted..A Tale of Bread Pudding

Elaine January 15, 2013 at 12:52 pm

I keep thinking of her as the tiny baby in your sling at BlogHer ’11! Time just slips away too fast…
Elaine recently posted..A Lesson in Clothes Buying (for your kids)

Gwen January 15, 2013 at 11:25 pm

My baby is now 4 and there are moments when I really miss the babyness, but the boy he is now is fabulous. I am thankful that I did chronical the babyhood so I can relive it when I need to.
Gwen recently posted..Mostly 365: Quinlan and Aidan

Julia January 16, 2013 at 2:24 pm

Beautiful. We are finding ourselves in an in-between too; in between baby and big boy, needing and not. And I’m finding that it is me, more than anyone, having trouble with the change.
Julia recently posted..That Mom

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