I have a little one, her name is Sandi. She is three now. She’s at that age between very cute and “Why Did I have kids?” In her cuteness, she laughs loudly, dresses in my clothes, plays with dolls (not I-Pad apps), sings (“How Grape Thou Art”) and makes very funny faces; crosses her eyes, furrows her brow (deep thinking), and shakes her head so hard, I think it’ll fall off her little body. At times, she will stand there, shake her finger at me and chastise me when I have a brain freeze or do something knucklehead-ish.
“Now, mom,” she will say at those times, “Really? That was soooo dumb-head.”
Someone once told me, “Your kids may not always listen to you. They won’t always do what you want, and they will disobey you. But they will also reflect you,” my little mirror.
Then there are the times she is in total Jake mode. Those are the times she is very concentrated like when she is constructing with Lego blocks, and she doesn’t hear or see anything else. She closes her eyes and her little eyebrows converge. She’ll open her eyes and then will take apart what she has built and start all over again; truly daddy’s girl.
Toutes les droites appartiennent à son auteur Il a été publié sur e-Stories.org par la demande de Karen Halloway.
Publié sur e-Stories.org sur 08.08.2014.
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