remember, I’m your mama: I’ll hold you until my arms break.
There is something so familiar, and yet breathtakingly miraculous about you.
You are my little flower, my Florence Marigold.
You are turning into a little girl right before my eyes.
Your hands are becoming fascinating treasures to you. Just recently you’ve discovered your blessed thumb. This brings you such immense pleasure, I can’t help but let you suck away. I don’t know what it will look like down the road…will I dip your thumb in vinegar? Or will I simply let it go? Or will you?
Your cries are turning into tiny, ballerina screams that make me giggle. You’re learning so much every day. Your eyes are wide as saucers as you watch your mama and papa do silly dances, sing songs and laugh with you over the simplest things.
Your cheeks are getting bigger by the second, exploding into kissable, rosy blooms.
Just when I thought you couldn’t make me swoon any harder, you smile, crinkling up your eyes. These are smiles reserved for me, and I know it.
When I kiss your head, swiping my lips across your forehead and the patch of hair at the back of your head, I can’t breathe you in hard enough. You smell like honeysuckles, like butter and fresh baked buns.
Your temperament is mild, even though you do like to express yourself often. You let me know what you dislike and love, with not so subtle eyebrow raises and scrunchy faces and whines and frowns (which are so cute they blow puppies and kittens out of the water).
I used to cry with overwhelming feelings of love for you. Now I can’t even catch my breath fast enough. The days go by, the weeks disappear. You will grow up so quickly. My heart crumples into a mess every time people tell me that–and it’s everyday! I know they are just trying to remind me to enjoy every second, every moment, but their reminders break my heart. I want to yell “Start Over! This is too good…I’m missing it already!”
If you ever need anything, remember, I’m your mama. I’ll give you the world and not only that, I’ll paint it bright and new. I’ll hold you until my arms break, until the sun comes up if I have to.