Tuesday, September 27, 2011
No. No. No.
We baked bread this morning, one, two, three cups of flour. My daughters have such little hands. They are so strong. Pulling apart the crust and licking sticky apple butter, this is my world. I am where I was meant to be.
I lay my little one down for a nap and she tells me, "No!" She doesn't want to sleep. She doesn't want to be carried. She doesn't want anything, some days. Only to stand up, up, up and we clap for her. I've seen her take a few steps on her own, but no. She doesn't want to walk, just yet.
She's taking her time, this baby. With her sister, I was so ready for things to go by. I wanted all of the family moments to get to us quickly. I fed her sweet potatoes at four months, and she was up all night with a belly ache. With this little one, my Louise, we're all taking our time. She knows we still need a baby, so she's fashioned her own way of moving around in the world. The tips of her new shoes scraping the concrete at the playground, she has a sort of one legged crawl-hop.
Mostly, she's stubborn.
I tell her, "Give Mommy a kiss," and she leans in close. Just before her tiny heart shaped lips touch mine, she scolds me, "No!" and pushes on my cheek. Get away from me for now. I am the baby and I know for sure that I am loved, no matter what. The way we love her is an invitation. She throws her cereal onto the floor and tells us no, and we smile at her ingenuity. She is only the baby, after all, and isn't it a miracle that she's so smart and wild and independent that she understands this concept with a full heart?
No.
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Today's post is a link up with Heather of The Extraordinary Ordinary's Just Write. If you want to join in, write something about the details of your day and link up! Be sure to read a few other pieces and get to know some great new writers in the process.
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Ah, if only we, as adults, felt more free to say "No."
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