Friday, October 25, 2013

Thea's Forever Family Day ~ Two Years

I don't even know what to say any more...
Honestly, I can't remember what it was like to not have Thea part of our family.
I know I haven't always been, that hard and beautiful reality is still felt quite keenly.

I am pretty sure I am "just" her mom now.

Just mom is always there. The just mom is consistent and sure of. You can know just mom will wipe your dirty little bum 15 times in one day because you space out your poop to cause the most possible mess... because we know mom will keep cleaning it up, and just in case we forgot she was just our mom, we now know she is. A just mom is expected to sing to you every night and do your hair up pretty and take you to go see it in the mirror. She always does those things.

Dad too. We know he is going to give us whiskery kisses. We know we can say good bye and he will be back for lunch in no time. We know he isn't a push over and we listen to him a tad better than to mom. We know he is fun and exciting and a little cooler than mom... because, well, he makes everything good. We know that he is dad and dads don't leave.

A just mom is mistreated and loved all in the same day. 
A dad is a dad who is there even when he isn't.

Recently, we all watched the old Disney Peter Pan. I reminded two of my big kids to try and not suck their thumbs ("because that is only for bedtime"). Thea listened and tried to not suck her thumb too. A few moments later her satiny smooth cool hand was on my cheek. Softly, smoothly patting. I felt loved by her intentionally. It was good.

Then speaking, "Mom. Cora suck her fumb!"

I realized her soft touch of "love" was only to be informant on her big sister. Taddles.
Oh well.

While the song "Mother" crooned on the TV I did dishes and Thea was held by her big sister, but when I sat down she scrambled into my lap. 

Her be-puffed hair with curls the size of a pen spring, blocked my view and got stuck in my eyelashes. It is annoyingly sweet. A trivial peeve. Puffs pushed down, brushed aside, back in my eyes again with out delay. 

Baby the Lamb and Blanky joined us. Sleepy breathing.

When I put her to bed we played "Kiss... Hug... Kiss... Hug..."
She starts the simple game. It gives me joy.

She asks in a request, "Hey mom. What a yittle girls made of?" and I dutifully sing a croaky and substandard rendition and don't skip the special personalized verse... Even if I could. I know that one unknown day she will ask the very last time of me, "What are little girls made of?" So I sing for her...

"Go to sleepy bi-low Thea.
Go to nighty-night now Thea.
Mama loves you.
And Daddy does too!
You're our little sugar Bee-ya!"

(I know, I am a rhyming genius of the likes of Shakespeare and master soother of all things infantile.)

I know I am just her mom now... and I am so thankful to be just that. 
All the really real moms are overlooked. 

We are two years home.
We are together.
I can't say much more than that.

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