So, the recovery thing is plodding along, and I'm trying very hard to get back to a sense of normalcy. Regularity and routine and schedule in my life are pretty integral to my sanity. I mean, I am a mom. A working mom, and so chaos sort of goes with the territory somewhat, but for the most part I can keep that chaos under control by using the guardrails of our routine.
After my daughter's tonsillectomy, she's eating and eating...she can't seem to stop. It's clear that she's making up for lost time. As a result, she's growing. Like whoa - is she growing!
So last night I pulled out the clothes I have been storing from last summer and we went through the exercise of trying everything on to see what no longer fits, and what will need to be bought. The good news is that all the pants and shorts that she was once wearing over diapers and which were in most cases too big, are now finally fitting her without diapers. It might help to remind you that she's nearly three years old now, and most of these pants & shorts are size 18-24 months. Her shirts are mostly ok...there's only a handfull of shirts and 1 pair of shorts that are going to donation.
But she got attached to one of the summer dresses from the pile, and she refused to change back out of it. She ponied up and suffered through trying everything else on, but that dress couldn't come back off. I negotiated and told her she could wear it with a sweater and her slippers until bedtime. I reasoned with her that it was a summer dress, and it's still too cold to wear it alone. Acquiescing. she tromped downstairs to flaunt her new dress in front of Daddy, and peered out the window to our backyard still blanketed by 2 feet of snow.
She looked out, and looked back at me. Looked out once more and sighed, whining "make it summer now": The implication being of course that I can change the weather with a snap of my fingers and fix this situation. I laughed and said, "if only I could, I certainly would." After all, I'm about as finished with winter as the average Canadian is this year. That was met with a resounding and very whiny "no, make it summer now!" I told her I couldn't just change the weather, but she didn't seem to believe me. We trekked up the stairs just half an hour later to get ready for bed. She didn't want to put her pajamas on, but there are still just some battles she's too little to win. But her disappointment was evident.
It struck me this morning, it's not the first time we've had this type of discussion. On the rare occassions we've seen sun this winter, she's been guaranteed to be in the spot of the car where it's glaring in through the windows and blinding her. I've heard more than one giant huff and the whine "The sun is looking at me. Make it stop." Again, implying that I can just reach up and with a twist of my wrist, change the sun's direction.
The absurdity of it is one thing, but this morning as I was thinking about it some more, I realized how wonderfully awesome it is to be viewed by a tiny human as being 100% in control of the universe. For her, it must obviously feel that way, though most days when I look at my day to day, it sometimes feels like I control very little. But how special it makes me feel to be idolized so much in her tiny eyes that I am capable of changing the weather, or redirecting the sun.
A mother will often tell her children that she would lasso the moon for them if she only could. Maybe we need to realize more often that we actually already are. And moreover, I'm going to make sure my child always remembers that she brought a special star from the furthest corner of the universe, straight into my heart from the very first day I found out she was coming. The universe is here. In our hands. I'm so very lucky to have her for my very own.