A Moment in Time (7/7/08)

It’s 6:00 p.m. on Monday night and you are standing outside under the porch (because it’s still over 100 degrees). Your white shirt is wet from the water you poured on yourself from your water table and covered in dirt from my garden. Your eyes are wide and you are staring off in space. At first I think you are daydreaming, and then you give a little grimace that lets me know you have actually just pooped. There is leftover dinner on your face and you are barefoot. You are perfect and you are mine.

Miss Independent

You, 18 months old, on the top stair saying no, refusing my help, wanting to walk down all by yourself.

Me, using all my patience to stand there with outstretched hand. Careful not to touch you, knowing you will grab my hand at the last second because you can not actually walk down without falling.

You, repeating this process for all of the 12 steps in our home. Always first wanting to go down by yourself, then realizing you need mommy's help.

Me, smiling to myself remembering as a kid that I told my mom I would rather roll a gutter ball than have her teach me to bowl.

You teaching me, as we tackle the stairs, an important lesson in parenting. Letting your children climb the stairs of life on their own, always in the background with an open hand, ready to help if they need it and ready to catch them if they fall.