2/19/10

Growth

I watch Z as she trots around her Nana and Papa's patio. The dress that used to graze her ankles now hits her shin, just below her knee. Ragged hair falls in her more angular face, her arms suddenly appear inches longer.

But it is her feet that catch my eye. Where once two perfect marshmallows plodded along, now there are long toes and arches, even a big girl arch on the outside of her foot where her suddenly bony foot no longer squishes into the ground.



At the playground that we visited this time last year, she doesn't need a boost up the stairs. She's no longer afraid of the tube slide. She lies on her stomach on the swing and pushes off with her legs. Instead of insisting on squishing herself into a baby swing, she pushes her sister instead.



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I pick up E from the crib and fumble in darkness for the Boppy. Holding her with one arm is suddenly impossible, her lead-like bottom almost slipping out from under my elbow. When I lay her down on the Boppy, her feet extend off the side of the chair, her head is almost to my shoulder and it dawns on me that she may not need it anymore.

Without it, she sits on my lap to nurse. As she adjusts to this new position, her eyes still look up at me, one hand still grasps for my hair, the other still pinches at my stray flesh.

I stare at the plump, useless Boppy on the floor.

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I wait in the pick-up line on Z's first day back to school after our vacation and close my eyes for a moment, feeling the weak sun's rays on my face, remembering Arizona.

When I open them, I see her, the mom I emailed a few weeks back. (And never heard back from.)

I watch her, bouncy and smiling as she runs around her car to buckle her daughter in. My car is right behind hers and there is no one behind me. E is happily playing in her carseat. For some reason, I don't feel nearly as shy and dorky as I normally do.

I don't give myself time to think about it more than that.

I jump out, run toward her - Hi! Are you R---?

When she nods and smiles, I keep going.

I'm J---. I sent you that email? The one that probably didn't make much sense?

Then she and I are both talking at once, standing there in the sun, both of us still smiling.

14 comments:

grammalouie said...

So - WOW! - what happened next??

Hillary said...

yeah! I'm with grammalouie. You left us with a cliffhanger. Good for you for taking the risk.

Fran said...

Exciting!!
And the boppy...my daughter drags it up in my lap still at 2 1/2. She insists on having it when she's ready for snuggle time. I need more lap!

KG said...

YAY!!!!

Sarah said...

Awesome! Yay for all three of you.

Katie said...

Aw, you guys are all growing up. ;)

Very sweet as always.

Eleanor Q. said...

Good for you just going and talkinig to her! Did you make plans?

I totally remember measuring Fussbot as he nursed. First he was the width of the chair then his legs dangled off the side and now he runs. Its pretty amazing isn't it?

Astarte said...

YAY!!!!!!! Isn't it funny how much it feels like high school, and how elated you feel afterwards, like it's some new mutual admiration club? Hooray for you!!!! I can't wait to hear more!

Grateful Twin Mom said...

Yea! Tears in my eyes, really. I so hope it works out. I love the physical juxtaposed with the mental growth. You are such an insightful writer. An inspiration...

mamarose said...

Lovely writing, lovely post, love it love it...

Kader said...

Hooray! In-person is so much better, huh? I mean, once we make ourselves do it.
And E being too big for the Boppy? *sob*
I can't even think about Z having fully-formed feet instead of marshmallows. My baby boy is planning to hang onto the marshmallows...

Amie said...

As usual, this is such a beautiful post. I judge Nola's growth by how she fits in my lap nursing as well.

And good for you for striking up a conversation with the other mom!

clueless but hopeful mama said...

grammalouie and Hillary- We made a tentative plan for a future playdate but more than anything, it felt SO GOOD to feel friendly and able to chat like a somewhat normal person. It *almost* doesn't matter if we actually become friends!

Good Enough Mom said...

Fabulous. All of it.

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