.growing.

Growing. She and I both are. Me, into this role of Mommy. She, into this spunky little girl. Where'd the time go? I'm still trying to get used to mommyhood. I love it, and yet at times I still struggle with it. Am I paying her enough attention? Too much? Is she just being a kid or should I have scolded her for throwing all the crayons all over the floor? Am I too hard? Too soft? Did she just say what I think she said? Did she get that from me?!

Where did my little baby go? Wait, there's that smile. There she is. Walking up and down the steps in her little white shoes that are quickly getting too small for her growing feet. She doesn't seem to mind. She just wants to skip, to jump, to fling her doll into the air and then pick her up when she falls, squeezing her so tightly as if she was afraid, just for a moment, that she would never come back down. She doesn't need help going up and down the stairs "Mama, I do it." She sings We're off to see the Wizard over and over, laughing each time she gets to the end, all the while she is still going up and down the stairs, occasionally stopping to stare out between the posts. Just when I think she doesn't even seem to notice that I am there, she stops at the top of the stairs, holding on to her favorite doll, she looks back and says, "C'mon Mama" holding out her hand to me.

Yes, we are growing. Me, into a more confident and thankful mother. She, into a most beautiful and carefree soul.