Wednesday, September 28, 2011

A delicate flower of spring

A delicate flower of spring is how I have often described Middle Kid.  She is tough, mean at times and has a tongue like a sword.  She is also caring, loving, loyal, beautiful, funny and just plain delicious.  I can hear the laugh that grows from her belly and pours out of her smile and dimples.  I wouldn’t have it any other way and as I sit here thinking of her and the baby that is growing inside of her, I get so melancholy that my stomach often jumps with love and pride. 

This isn’t to say that we haven’t had our moments!  Oh you betcha!  Screaming matches, slamming doors, tears, nose to nose confrontations that I won of course.  Pets passing, school bullies, brothers (need I say more?), divorce and remarriages.  Unfortunately for the only girl in the family besides myself, her Dad and I put her and her brothers through so much just so we could one up each other and boast or defend how much we loved each of them.  She always took it to heart.  That’s not to say that we didn’t have the best of times too!  I want to remember those times forever and I pray that her and the baby have three times the moments we did.

Things I remember….

I remember her in my arms and wrapped like a burrito.  The wide brown eyes looking back at me and after telling her Hi, the wide dimpled, toothless grin.

I remember MK (age 3) and First Born (age 4) in the backyard of our first house with McDonald Happy Meal plastic pumpkins on their heads with the handle around their little chins playing pirates in the dirt with sticks.

I remember the years of Wednesday night female bonding (age 7, 8, 9) where it would be just her and I (the boys were with their dad) doing whatever we wanted.  Out to dinner, doing homework, talking and laughing, dancing, singing, shopping, cooking, watching our favorite TV shows, her wearing my shoes and walking around the house.

I remember when we would shop for her birthday (age 12) and she would walk around Mervyn’s and look for the items that she had hidden over that past year throughout the store.  Gifts that she wanted to buy for me, her brothers, stepsisters, grandparents and even her dad.  I had to wipe her tears and convince her that although it was nice to buy them stuff, the trip was for her birthday.  Then she would convince me that that was what she wanted for her birthday, give them presents.  It made her happy.

I remember her first day of high school and stopping at the coffee shop for first day of school mochas then driving right up to the front of school and giving her hugs and kisses with a tear in my eye waiting for her to get out of the car.  MK sitting in the car frozen and staring forward, not wanting to get out, me leaning across her to open the door from my seat just to get her out and walk in.  She closed it again and with a nervous giggle and saying “I don’t want to go”.  Us repeating this two more times before I could get her out. 

I remember her first car that she purchased on her own by saving all her money from the bobby sox umpire earnings she had mastered all spring and summer.  The piece of crap blue Camaro that looked like it had been decorated for a mexican fiesta parade.  The fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror, the red cloth bobbles that surrounded the inside, the bouncy head dog that she got rid of, the sarape blankets that were used as seat covers.  She loved it!  I was worried…

I remember the first night that she moved out so excitedly and I cried all night in bed just wondering if she had food or was warm.  Yep, first night.  Don’t think I didn’t get crap for that one.

I remember her first big girl job after she had moved back in to save money.  We would get up and have breakfast and coffee, getting ready for work together and leaving the house with our coffee mugs.  Kisses and hugs as we got in our cars and driving away.

I remember her wanting to move in with me to take care of me after my divorce.  Resting my head on her shoulder so I could cry.  Bringing her crazy friends over to cheer me up with bar b q’s, swimming in the apartment pool, dancing in the kitchen, watching movies and most of all just watching them laughing and talking about their 20 something party stories.  So much fun!

Now here she is about to have her own baby, living with her Sweetheart, working two jobs to save money.  My baby girl….    *tear*

My delicate flower is grown up and her spring is unfolding into a beautiful garden to which I pray no thorns will ever poke.

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