Watch my daughter grow.

We were at G’s parents’ place yesterday. I was in the kitchen, and they were all outside. I heard G’s voice say “go tell Mommy what you saw,” and a second later, M and her Papa appeared at the door.

“What did you see??” I asked her. I’ve got this shrill mommy-voice that I’m rarely aware of, which comes back to haunt me when I watch videos… but that’s another story.

After a bit more prodding from all of us, her answer came: “Barbar.”

“You’re going to see a barbar? Really?!? Wow!” Said in the same mommy-voice, as I desperately searched my mind to figure out what “barbar” meant.

As I pondered, she added, as an afterthought: “too!”

Hm. So she saw a barbar in addition to something else. The mystery grows.

But then G cut in and told me that I had to really wait and listen, so once again, she was asked to tell us what she saw.

M’s little voice again: “Barbar.”

Uh, yes?

“Too!”

Ahhhh.

Okay… this went on for awhile longer, but you get the point. I’d like to say it came to me like a light bulb going off because I’m just that in tune with my daughter, but alas, I did end up needing translation from G.

Barbeque!!!

M grinned from ear to ear, and nodded. “Barbar… ... ... tyoo!”

And voila, her first 3-syllable word.

The second half of our 2-hour-long playclass is set in a large gym, where the facilitators set out riding toys and other large toys for the kids to burn off some energy. Including two measley balls.

All the kids like the balls, so you have to be pretty aggressive to get one. This means… M never gets the ball.

I left her on one side of the gym to walk to my bag, and by some miracle, she didn’t follow me, meaning I got the opportunity to watch her from across the room, without her knowing.

She stood in one spot, just watching the action. Occasionally I’d see her eyes scan the room, and her arms would go up and out, as she said “Mama!” Not a beckoning kind of call, but rather more of a “Hmm, where is she,” followed by a shrug. Then, before she could get upset about my absence, something would distract her.

One of those two balls rolled by her several times, and each time she wanted it so badly I’m sure she could taste it. But she’d watch it roll by and before she made a move for it, some other kid would grab it.

Once, the red ball rolled by soooo slowly, I saw her hand reach out for it, but she coudln’t quite make herself grab it. For once all the other kids were occupied, so it just slowly rolled across the floor to the wall, where it bounced, and came to a rest. I saw her study it for a long moment, and after serious thought and consideration, she started taking a few steps toward it. Pause… and then a few more. When she was almost there, though, another more rambunctious boy ran up, grabbed it, and ran away with it. She stopped dead in her tracks, just watching it go.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but it made me smile to see once again, the little shrug with the hands open and out to the sides, and she contentedly resumed her observation of the other kids.

[When soon after she did spot me on one of her scans of the room, she yelled “Mama!” and ran toward me with a big grin on her face (about as animated as she’ll get in public), and nearly knocked me over with a hug.]

It’s all happening so fast, isn’t there a way to slow it down??

Yesterday I had a little moment of realisation when bedtime was approaching. I was asking her about her day, and she remembered and told me about little details from the day that I never would have thought she’d recall, let alone put together.

I asked her who she saw that day, and not only did she remember all the people, but details about them. (eg. L said “1.. 2.. 3.. UP!” and A burned herself and had ice on the burn: “ouch! cold!” while pointing to her arm).

Describing it makes it sound so minor, and I’m being a bit over-emotional, but for some reason it really struck me that things are progressing much much faster than I’d like.

I’d better start keeping up!

Meet “hop hop,” known to the rest of the world outside our immediate family as “bunny.”

You know, it’s one of those crafts done in a mother/tot class, where the moms usually struggle to complete a finicky craft while bouncing struggling tots on their lap – tots who’d much rather just run around the gym.

However, this time, M sat quietly on my lap, didn’t try to eat any key crafting items, and even helped a little bit. And two weeks later, little Hop Hop is still alive, unlike all the other unfortunate craft creatures that have been crushed, chewed, ripped, lost, or otherwise destroyed.

Not sure what the appeal of Hop Hop is to M, but she sure likes him.

Btw, his googly eyes, peeled off by curious fingers before this photo was taken, have since been replaced by dots drawn on by a sharpie marker. Far less swallowable.

Tonight I looked at stars for the first time in I-can’t-remember-how-long.

We went for a walk before bedtime tonight, and although it wasn’t fully dark out, the moon was bright in the sky, and while looking at that, we spotted 3 dim but twinkly stars.

Not as dramatic as the moon, but it struck me that I never take the time to stop and look around (or up, in this case) and enjoy the beauty around me.

Adults (at least the dull ones like me) spend too much time looking straight ahead, and while I’m not sure what this has to do with watching M grow, I’m thankful to her for reminding me to stop and look at the stars. I promise to do it a lot more with her.

Tonight I nursed her to sleep, as she seems to require lately. I often find myself watching the clock, wanting her to hurry up so I can put her to bed and go and do other things, but tonight I made an effort to stay in the moment.

I enjoyed the details of it all – the quiet, the bonding, just feeling close and peaceful with her. Even when she was done, and sleeping in my arms, I held her for awhile, and looked at her, and just let the feelings of love wash over me.

I MUST do this more.

It all passes so fast. Housecleaning can wait, grocery shopping can wait, weird addictions to dangerous online sites like this one can wait, but she keeps growing and growing, and I need to remember not to miss anything.