My daughter, the Active One. Sigh. I chased her around a small waiting room this morning, then she got more sillies out with the physical therapist, then fell asleep in the car- worn out by this fabulous morning of car rides and new sights.
She's getting better. I'm getting better. When I think back to all those months in her first year that I co-existed with her, I want to take that younger version of myself in a great big hug. It did get better. I knew it would, if I just hung in there long enough. My little girl really is mine; she really does love me. I really do love her with my whole heart. And the little boy will be just the same.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
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