Friday, February 18, 2011

Little girls and their things.

I've written about it before, but here I go again. Little girls and their things creep their way into your heart and just settle there like sprinkles on a sugar cookie. Our house that we live in now, is our first home, had a little girl that lived here before us. That first year we lived in the house and re-did the yard and each room I would find signs of little girl everywhere. I found some drawings on the wall in the back bedroom, chalk names on the fireplaces. Lots of sparkley tassels out in the yard, and once I found a princess mirror buried out in my flower bed. I would smile, and wonder how all these things got where they did.

Now I have a little girl. Even though I thought I was having a little boy, and that would be easier. A little girl who runs around on full throttle all day long, babbling to herself, the cats, and the dollies in the stroller. She giggles, she churgles, and she scatters objects all over the house. I will find that our windowsill in our living room has become some type of altar to animal figurines and that our bathroom is an obstacle course books, bows and stuffed animals.

Some days its frustrating, I am trying to get things done and she is getting things undone. I have heart stickers stuck to my work pants, and unfortunately a piece of string cheese has been living under the couch for too long. I often feel like a bomb went off in most of the house, and we are just living in the remnants of explosion. Refugees in a sea of chalk, crayons and anything fuzzy and cute.

In the scramble of it all, once and awhile I just find myself smiling at the fun and joy of it all. In her fun and joy. She was napping, and I was getting started making a casserole and there on the stove is a pink plastic bracelet that Kate has been putting on and off all morning long. I set it there in a hurry in the morning, a totally inappropriate spot by me. But, it made me so happy to find a little girl thing right there in the middle of normal.

A little sprinkle on top.

1 comment:

  1. Isn't it great, though? As much as the mess bothers me, I smile a lot as I think about her going through her day and depositing all of that in it's various places.