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.
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.
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.
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