I am having a day with my girl. I love her--whole heart kind of love. When I draw her into my arms I can smell that wild earthy scent that belongs only her and feel a warmth that runs through me like hot coco on a cold autumn morning. Those moments melt me.
Holding onto those moments must be what gets me through the power struggles, temper tantrums, and times of defeat. My
petite fleur is a strong willed, intense, singled minded, determined, passionate, free spirited being. Creative. Dramatic. Talented. She makes me question my parenting ability, worry about my blood pressure, and tests my patients daily. There are days that I have to take deep breaths, a lot, in order to prepare myself for anything she throws my way.
She is a lot like me. My brother reminds me of this often, with laughter. She is. A lot. Like me. Today, we are feeding each others souls and feeding them well. As the Indigo Girls station on Pandora sings to our spirts the glitter glue flows freely and her mood is light and airy. We are having the best day ever. I entered this day with the only expectation of being with her and letting her do. I forget that her soul needs to be feed well, too. The busy pace is not good for either of us. Messy stickiness is our drug. Being allowed to create is what fits us best. Someday, we will not struggle against each other, but balance and complement. This day together is bring us closer.
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