I'm not liking today.
My baby is 11.
And since it is also the last day of school, my 11-year-old is also a 6th grader.
That is just too much to emotionally process in one day.
There are 2,555 beads left in this jar; one for each day until her 18th birthday.
I take one out each day....a visual reminder to make each day count.
As if looking at her all grown-up-and-11-looking wasn't reminder enough.
Tookie was a scheduled c-section. Exactly 11-years and a day ago, I knew she was getting ready to arrive. She always has been on time....never a minute too soon and never a minute late. It's funny how this little tidbit is true to her character even now....She is a rule-follower, and she takes things in the most literal context possible.
(which sort of makes in hard for those of us who like to talk in figures-of-speech)
(funny when we are just messing around with her, though)
When Tookie was a baby, we were undergoing some remodeling on our home. I slept with her in Nathan's room while he camped out in the living room.
There was a little trick I used to get her to sleep through the night.
Whenever she would start to stir a bit, I would snuggle in close, put my cheek on her cheek or forehead and whisper:
It's okay baby. Mama's here. Mama's right here.
And the most wonderful thing happened every time.
She would turn her face in towards mine, snuggle up and rest again.
She just wanted to know that mama was close.
Tookie loves it when I tell her this story. This is what the story looks like 11 years later:
Dear Danielle Renae,
Mama loves you. I am so proud of you and the sweet girl that you are. I know that you sometimes feel like you are being ripped off for being the youngest. The last to get get to do everything fun and the first one to get tucked in at night.
And I don't help matters. As much as you want to hurry up and grow up, I am clinging to every moment, hoping to hold on to them for just a little bit longer than each moment is supposed to last.
I am so thankful to God for giving you to me. I am so grateful for the privilege of raising you. Grateful for the 2,555 beads that are still in that jar.
Even though I have to let go of your hand and step back every once in a while, there is a little secret that I want to tell you:
It's okay baby girl.
Mama's right here.
I'll always be close by.