Mighty Girl!

I remember a few years ago, when Bug was a wee thing, Little Bear insisted on walking to the ice cream store near our house. Except that it's a mile away. But she wouldn't back down,  even as I continued to ask her if she wanted papa to pick us up in the car.

"It's OK just to go part way," I said and, "It's still really far, do you want to drive?" Really? Total parent fail. Luckily I caught myself in time and cheered her on the rest of the way, even when she did eventually get tired... and she did it!

So tonight, at our school's track meet when she asked to push Bug's stroller, I said yes. Even though it was one of the cheap umbrella deals from Walmart that is impossible to steer. And there were a million people. And I was pretty sure there was going to be a thunderstorm.

And Little Bear pushed it almost all the way to the car. Through a dirt and gravel path, up a grassy hill, and around corners. When she had trouble steering,  she bent down and aimed the wheels in the right direction. When she struggled, she pushed harder. Again, I cheered her on and again, she surpassed my expectations.

So here's to you, Little Bear, and to mighty girls everywhere. May you keep walking and keep pushing and may your mama always cheer you on. Even when it's about to rain.

Just stop

I am compelled to take pictures of my babies while they sleep.

My soft, snuggly one year old, who sleeps, as he does everything else, with total abandon. Who does not stop until he curls up on his tummy at the end of the day, arms and legs tucked up under him, and sighs heavily as you scratch his back. And then his mouth hangs open, his eyes roll back in his head, and his heavy lids close. And as I lay next to him, I want to remember.

And my tall, quirky four year old. She still naps during the day and desperately needs it. She also needs to fall asleep surrounded by 15 studded animals, a pike of books, and 1-3 shining lights. But she's just as snuggly and often times,  deep in the night, she cheerfully pads down the hall, pillow and blanket in hand. And then what do you say? Because for the same reason I take pictures of them sleeping, I let them search us our in the night. I want to remember.

No matter how far away it seems now, I know that one day they won't want to share our bed, won't want me to snuggle "just one more minute," and eventually,  won't even fall asleep in my house. During the day, they live fast and hard and I get caught up in all the day to day mom things. Before I know it, night has fallen and their breathing is once again soft and steady. So I pause, and take a picture.