I sit here rocking, knowing these days are numbered. And soon it will be soccer (or softball) practice or (gasp!) dance lessons taking up our every waking moment and not cuddles and stories and giggles. "Up please" will turn into "shut up." *Shudder*
But for now I rock.
I had just gotten dressed after my shower, my mind already working overtime with my mental to-do list for the day. I heard the Punk starting to fuss, so barefoot, hair dripping, and makeup-less I go into her room. I get to her big girl toddler bed and she actually crawls out on her own! I hand her Bear. Punky mumbles a "thank you" and stumbles to the rocker for me to pick her up and rock. Within moments she is asleep in my arms. (Side note: good call on the glider versus traditional rocking chair. Much more practical and comfortable in times like these!)
So while I am now behind schedule in my morning routine, I really don't care. She has this impeccable timing and way of making me slow down and reevaluate what is truly important. And being able to hold her and reassure her is the most important thing at the moment. She is transitioning and though she handled the first day like a pro, I know, underneath is some uncertainty, some stress regarding the changes that have happened recently.
As I sit here rocking, I remember wondering how I was going to mother a little girl. I'm not exactly what you call a "girly girl." For me doing my hair usually means a ponytail, my makeup routine includes a moisturizer with sunscreen, a liquid to powder foundation, mascara, and Chapstick. If I'm feeling really fancy, I'll throw in some eyeliner. Clothes are more about comfort and function than fashion. If I could get away with it I would wear jeans and tank tops year round. With flip flops in the summer and sneakers and a comfy hoodie in winter. Having a daughter was scary business!
But I love it. We play with stuffed animals. She wears bracelets from one of my old Halloween costumes. I know how to French braid her hair. We "dance" to silly music in the kitchen. When it comes time for clothes and makeup, she's got aunts that can help her. If she really does have a passion for dancing, I'm calling my cuz.
And now I find myself wondering, if we are able to have more children, what will I do with a son?