I spend a lot of my blog writing about my boys and all we’ve been through and continue to face with them. The oldest is our micro-preemie, former 26-weeker, now 12 1/2 -year-old who happens to be perfectly normal and healthy (besides some mild asthma and ADHD – both of which are well-managed). The youngest is our healing baby, who happens to have a lot of letters attached to him…PDD-NOS, ADHD, and ODD. While therapies, psychiatrist visits and follow-up with the pediatrician can consume a ton of time, energy, and emotion, they are not the entirety of my world.
In between…ah the child in between. I would, in a heartbeat, go back and do that pregnancy all over again. Same with her babyhood and toddler-hood. I was so terrified almost every day of that pregnancy. I hardly allowed myself to get attached to her. I was very clinical about it. I was depressed, anxious, fearful, exhausted. Oh, I was happy to be having a girl, but mostly because by then I knew that baby girls do better in the NICU than “wimpy white boys.” I made so many mistakes (at least they’re mistakes in my mind) I would go back and undo.
I would hope I have made up for all those failures. She is my Princess. She is my only girl. She is everything I wish I had been when I was a little girl. She is beautiful. She is funny. She is comfortable in her own skin. She goes after things 100%. Even if she is afraid, she doesn’t show it. She is a comforter. She is a little mama to Ethan. She is Ryley’s first best friend. She is smart. She can laugh at herself. She is girly, but she is tough.
She is my saving Grace. The in-between child. She is typical in her middle-child-ness. She is an over-achiever, a perfectionist, a mediator. She is sensitive and loving. She is Daddy’s and Mommy’s girl. She is a helper. She is a pack-rat. She loves her carbs and sweets, and like her momma, refuses to consider fruit as edible. She gives our family balance.
I spend hours one-on-one with her by necessity. We are outnumbered. And M prefers not to have to take her to all of her dance classes, so we have a lot of time in the car to chat. She is my shopping buddy, my cooking buddy, my errand-running buddy.
She is not perfect, especially as we edge closer to the teenage years. She will cry for no apparent reason at the drop of the hat. She is sometimes snarky. She can occasionally be bossy. Her room is a cluttered mess. And she seems to believe towels can only be used once before they must be thrown in the laundry.
While I may not write about her often, she is a huge chunk of my world. I love her, and thank God for her every single day.