The light of my life

I'm up late. Real late for me. Especially these days. I've been in bed for two hours, unable to sleep. I'm not sure why, other than a lot of excitement. And, perhaps a lack of proper hydration, considering my recent activity level. I've been on my feet more in the last seven days than I had all of the previous 6 weeks. So, I'm sitting here with a large glass of water, and thought it an opportune time to reflect upon being the mother of a two-year-old.

We hosted the second of Kinnie's birthday parties at our home this afternoon. We celebrated with Brian's family one week ago. She is a delight. Turns out, she is one party girl. She loves presents. Once one has been opened, and briefly enjoyed, she turns to me and says "I wan anoder present." She took it pretty well when I told her that, in fact, they had all been opened. And thank goodness, for the sake of our modest home, which has been over-run by brightly colored games, and dolls, and toys of all kinds. Kinnie also really likes cake. Or at least frosting. At her birthday celebration with Brian's family, there were cupcakes piled with the stuff, in an amazingly un-natural blue-purple color. She proceeded to eat all the frosting off two of those. Then, she ran around like a maniac.

I am getting closer and closer to healed. I walk primarily with my hot-pink cane, saving the crutches only for longer walks with the dogs. I can get on the floor, and pick Kinnie up. I can do some cleaning around the house, get to the grocery store, and change diapers again. Normalcy seems to be returning, slowly but surely.

Kinnie has continued to be a champion through this experience. My worries prior to surgery and recovery have not become realities. She has, in many ways, remained a Mommy's girl. And, all the time that I was not able to be right there with her taught her that Daddy is pretty incredible, too. She has become more self sufficient. She plays quietly, every once in a while, on her own. When she accompanied my mom and me to my post-op appointment this week, I asked her what she wanted to tell the doctor. She said, "make Mommy's owie all better." She kisses my leg on a daily basis to achieve that end.

Pride, I have heard, can be sinful. But certainly not this kind. My heart swells when she says "thank you Mama" after I hand her juice, when she remembers that markers only go on paper, when she does something to make us laugh, when she gives her loved ones "big squeezes." So many people have remarked that the time goes so fast. But I think as I make the effort to be present every day, to attend to all the joys and beautiful moments, time almost slows down. I am grateful, grateful, grateful, down to the core of my soul. I never knew I could love this much.