My First Born

Perhaps my perception of her has changed more than she has, but the fact remains: she is getting so big! I was having a conversation with a coworker the other day about how her 3 year old just seemed to grow up over night and although Lily still has about 2 weeks before she’s technically 3, she is totally going on 15. She’s so incredibly perceptive and opinionated and capable of so much. When did that happen? When did she become such a unique individual? I can’t even talk about her in front of her without her ears perking up like a little puppy dog. And then she immediately repeats whatever was said, usually causing me great regret on the spot (me: she said butt; Lily: I said butt! BUTT BUTT BUTT BUTT!!!). When will I learn?

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We were reading tonight and we kept having to turn back to the title page to go over each letter and then the title over and over again until she had a complete understanding of what we were about to read. She wants to read! She’s not even three – does she know that?

And suddenly she can count, too. I don’t mean she can recite her numbers in order, either, I mean she can assign numbers to objects and tell you how many there are. She’ll be adding and subtracting and doing long division before I was able to tie my own shoes. I was the youngest of 4, though. I didn’t have to do anything for myself; that’s what I had siblings for. 

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She’s also very funny, but what’s better is that she knows it and she knows when to turn it on. She has good timing, not to mention she tries to distract us when we argue by making jokes or doing slapstick. Sometimes it even works.

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She and David went to the bookstore yesterday and she picked out a book called, Someday, by Alison McGhee. It was so sentimental that it was almost cruel to make a pregnant woman read. I couldn’t get through it without balling…and I mean, crying so that I couldn’t finish the story. Lily was all, “It’s okay, mommy, it’s okay.” I tried to reassure her but think I just confused her even more. She’ll probably never want to read it again for fear mommy will have a mental breakdown. Which I might. I really can’t bear the thought that she will leave me someday. Holy shit.

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I suppose it’s a damn good thing I’m about to have another…

Speaking of the other one, how about Mia Helene? Helene was my mother’s real mother’s name. She died when my mother was 9 years old and we’re all dead ringers for her, as far as we can tell from the fuzzy pictures. Since this will likely be my mother’s last grandchild, it would mean a lot to her. My sister’s first daughter’s middle name is my mom’s name, so it fits that the last girl reaches back even further.

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