Hello daughter. Yes, I'm your mommy, though you seem to think it's Grandma that's your mom. Sometimes I try to act immature about it all, and can't seem to stamp down my feeling of jealousy. I hope you forgive me. It really hurts Mommy.
Sometimes when Mama leaves the room, you cry like with a keening sound, like a hurt animal, and then run as fast as you can to catch her. I had hoped, when I was just dreaming about you, when you were in my womb, when I first cradled you in my arms, that you would cry like that and run like that for me.
Sometimes you'll look up at Mama and demand to be carried, and she'll put you in her arms talking, while you sit contentedly in her lap, leaning your head against her. I had hoped, when I first found out you were a girl, when I first felt your kick, when I would whisper to you as you lay in my womb, that you would sit and lean your head contentedly in my lap.
Sometimes when I come and try to carry you from Mama, you'll shake your head vigorously and cuddle up even closer to Mama. I had hoped, when I first saw your smile, and spent nights just looking at your face as a newborn, that you would refuse to leave my arms, your Mom's arms.
So, I hope and I wait, and I hope and I wait. Meantime, I remind myself it's better that you love your grandma, than if you couldn't stand her.
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1 comment:
Ouch that's gotta hurt... but at least you get some free time to spoil hubby instead? My problem is that I spend so much time with Annika in my arms or on my lap that I feel all "touched out" by the end of the day :D
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