This week, on Small Moments Mondays, my lovely friend, Angela, from Tiaras and Trucks is sharing a small moment that so many of us will be able to relate to.
One of the things that I love most about Angela is that while what you see on the surface is so lovely, what lies beneath is beyond amazing. She is soft and kind, but also has an unwavering strength that I truly admire.
She is funny and sweet, but she is such a powerful writer that she can move me to tears in a heartbeat. She just makes me feel what she feels.
Thank you, Angela, for sharing your words here. Thank you for inspiring me with your writing and for being my friend. I am so lucky to know you.
Said with Such Love — by Angela
Her golden head falling on my shoulder while reading a story stops my breath, leaving me wondering how I can possibly change her life like this, how I could bring a baby into her world, how I can take her mommy away.
Nursing him in the dark, a few tears fall onto his wispy hair. Loving and affectionate, he easily slides into his place in our family, but I desperately worry he will never know the undivided adoration of first-time parents.
More than a year later, Abbey and Dylan’s first egg hunt has her giddy with anticipation, carefully clutching both of their baskets to her chest as we walk to the park. Her nod is serious as she listens to how she’ll have to wait for the “babies” to find their eggs first, while she plays with her friends on the slides and monkey bars and waits her turn.
He is simply happy to be riding in the stroller, feeling the wind in his hair, giggling and tossing his snack cup to the ground, knowing I will pick it up and return it with a tickle or a kiss.
Clouds hang over the park, but colored eggs evoke a festive feeling, kids jumping and running over plastic bridges, their eyes hunting eggs they know they mustn’t yet touch. Parents of older children chat while those of us with wobbly toddlers follow closely, steadying them on small steps and inclines and stumpy slides.
Abbey rushes away immediately, daringly stepping from one moving disk to another.
“Mommy! Look at me!” she calls, proudly announcing the feat that was beyond her grasp only months before.
I clap and smile, my heart a little hurt that I can’t reach out to give her a hug or high five while chasing Dylan from the fireman’s pole.
Ushering Dylan over to where countless eggs carpet the grass for the youngest participants, I hand him his basket, pointing at the bright orbs. This is rare, my undivided attention, and his smile shines brightly towards me. Unsteadily, but purposefully, he walks to an egg and stops. Now he is uncertain, and his smile falters. I crouch near him, pointing to the egg.
His brow furrows. His bright, blue eyes scan the playground.
With slight apprehension, I call her over, knowing she is anticipating her turn, worrying she’ll be disappointed at my request.
“Dylan needs your help,” I say simply, bracing myself for her response.
Immediately, she crouches much as I had, pointing at the same egg.
“Look Dylan! An egg!”
Patiently, slowly, she wanders with him amidst the eggs, telling him their colors, getting excited with him about one red egg so big he needs both hands to hold it.
“Addie,” he sighs happily, handing her the egg and watching her place it in his basket.
Her name, mispronounced, has never been said with such love.
With their few, simple words, I become an observer, a mommy not to Abbey or Dylan but to Abbey and Dylan. Siblings.
See what I mean? Isn’t she amazing?
Angela is also one of my favorite tweeps. Go find her on Twitter! You’ll be so glad you did.