These Boots Were Made
I picked Lina up from school yesterday during the end of snack time. This means that all of the other kids are finished with their snacks, and my darling daughter has only just begun eating. This kid takes T I M E with her food. Yesterday the afternoon snack consisted of three crackers, each of which took her approximately one hour to eat. I sat patiently nearby, my butt in a Barbie-sized chair, because do not even think for one second that her prandial speed changes in any way when I walk in the door. Don’t get me wrong, she’s happy to see me, she just doesn’t let it interrupt her liesurely munching.
Several hours later, after all the groceries sitting in the car had been ruined, she was ready to go. I clutched her coat and hat, and bent down to scoop her up as we reached the door, just as I do every day.
That’s when it happened. She said no.
It took me a second to figure out what was going on. Like when you’re in a car crash and time passes slowly and you see every millisecond with perfect awareness. And then you realize what happened.
She wanted to walk. She didn’t want to be carried. I pasted a smile on my face so the teachers would be none the wiser, fought back my senseless tears, and opened the door for my almost-two-year-old daughter. And she walked past me, out into the world.
February 14th, 2007 at 08:43
As they say, “you go, girl!”
Just keep an eye on what she’s walking TOWARD.
February 14th, 2007 at 19:44
Isn’t it ironic that we have to start releasing these bundles of love as soon as they come into our world. I still inwardly kick and scream and protest every time the boys lurch forward and leave me one more step behind.