I was no less nervous or uncertain or terrified than I'd been before. The difference, though, was that I suddenly felt pulled to make something in the world that was about more than just me. Here is the fruit of my (not so literal because she was a tank who required a planned C-section) labor:
That's one of Gracie's first photos. Here is one of the most recent photos of her:
And from the moment I knew I was expecting to about 30 minutes ago when I gave my girl her nighty-night hugs and kisses (100 of each, thankyouverymuch), I've been... Clueless. Insecure. Realistic with a pinch of optimism. Why? Because there is nothing more important in this world that I can do than bring a kind heart, old soul, and genuine spirit into it. And you know what? Those are just a few of the ways I might describe my girl.
The other day, Grace found a ladybug; a dead ladybug. Even though we've had far (far) too many chances to tell her about death, when I told her the ladybug was dead, she said, "No, Mommy. Rosie's just sleeping. We'll take care of her." She was wrong, of course; Rosie had long since left the world. But in her four-year-old wisdom? Grace NEVER quit.
Tonight, we were launching a paper airplane with a rubber band, and Grace's one directive was that we had to share so we could all have fun. Because at the end of every single day, she wants what we all want: to be happy.
And that, my friends, is how I am a 33-year-old woman who wants to emulate a toddler. Parenthood is the most terrifying, the most difficult, and the most rewarding job because it forces us to hold a crystal-clean mirror to ourselves. In those moments of honest reflection, we can acknowledge what we all want more than anything: Love. Happiness. Adventure. Joy. It's scary, honestly, to acknowledge who we really are, especially when we're passing on a part of ourselves to the world.
People always say that she's my mini, and it is both the most tremendous responsibility and the greatest compliment all rolled into one.
The older I get, the more I realize how little I know. I question my words, my beliefs, my ideas. And I always decide that I have no clue beyond my own limited views. But Grace? My brave and bold and smart and vibrant little girl? Well, I might not know about me, but I know for damn sure that she will change the world...and that, loves, is the best of anything I could ever offer.
