laci & cookies

I have not been as patient as I'd like to be with my big girl lately. I try each day to be the mother she needs me to be, but some days she just knows how to push me. Our personalities are very similar, which I'm sure does nothing to help the situation. Plus, she's two, and testing her boundaries, and strong willed, and maybe a little threatened by all the time her new little sister consumes.

  

So, today, we made cookies together while Mia napped. It was only twenty minutes or so, and Laci spent more time painting the lemons with peanut butter and sticking her finger in the sugar than she did learning how to crack an egg, but I didn't expect anything different. She got a little one-on-one time with me, got to sit on the counter and get sticky, and we both got yummy cookies out of the deal. Though I love Mia with all my heart, I sometimes miss the time Laci and I used to spend together.

Laci is quite a character if you can't tell. Most nights, I can count on a visit from her around 1:00 am. Sometimes I hear her little feet pattering across the trailer floor and I'm able to redirect her back to bed before she is too awake. Other nights, I'm awakened by a tap on the arm and a "Mama?" A few nights ago, she arrived at my bedside with a large purple bouncy ball. "Laci, what are you doing?" I asked. "Mama, play ball?" she asked in return. Then I had to break the news that we don't play ball inside the trailer in the middle of the night. She didn't take the news too well.

The best, though, was about a week ago. I thought I heard her little feet out of bed, but was so tired I didn't get up right away. I figured I'd lay there for a few minutes and get my bearings before jumping out of bed. Except she never arrived. Then I wondered if I was imagining things. I sat up and saw my bathrobe (which was hanging in the hallway) "dancing" in the dark as if possessed by a ghost. Then I heard her singing, her sweet little two year old voice humming and singing a song only she could recognize. She had wrapped the robe (still hanging) completely around herself and was apparently having a private party of sorts. I asked my usual question, "Laci, what are you doing?" and she peeked out from under the robe and said, "Hi mama!" as if this were a completely normal thing to do in the middle of the night.

The past few months have been rough on this little girl, though most of the time she just rolls with it. She had only spent the night away from us twice before Mia was born, then both Ryan and I were nearly completely gone from her life for several weeks. When we came back home, we brought her a new little sister who she isn't exactly thrilled about. I hear "Mia down" many times a day. And unfortunately, even though I explain it to her daily, I'm not sure she understands that Ryan is so busy because he is building a house for us to live in.  I tell her that daddy has to work and she cries, "Me work too."  She misses him.  A lot.

As we ate pancakes for dinner (again) a couple of nights ago, she assumed her position on the floor at her makeshift table.  With all four of us squished and eating together, I knew she was blissfully unaware that not all families live like we do. I knew that she was content, happy to have her daddy on the floor next to her, and happy to have her mama make pancakes, even if I was also holding Mia. She will not remember this past Summer in the details I will. I know her memories will form in the setting of our new home.  I know she will learn to share with her sister and she (like me) will not remember life before having a sister.
She deserves more patience than I can provide. I hope she knows how much I love her and how I want to give her the world even when I tell her "No!" 547 times a day. I hope she knows she is just as special as her little sister, even without scars. Someday, I hope she'll read this and wonder why I was so worried about not being patient with her because all she can remember is baking cookies, tasting sugar, and having fun with her mama.