I’ve heard it said that when you have kids, it’s like taking your heart and letting it reside on the outside of your body. Truer words were never spoken. I fully understood that sentiment when Nick was born, and ever since, and again with Madeline. Oh Madeline.
“I miss you.”
But Madeline, I’m right here.
“No, I miss you when you’re gone,” she said.
“When you go to work or I go to Daddy’s.”
My heart instantly broke into a thousand little pieces. She has this incredibly soft side of her that comes out here and there, a sharp juxtaposition to her Ramona Quimby ways. And it melts me. Every time.
But honey, I always come back. And look… see this necklace I wear? It has your name on it, and your brother’s, and the day that you were born. Your birthday. You’re always close to me.
She leaned in and gave me a kiss.
Tonight we were in the kitchen making a batch of cookies for her to bring to school tomorrow. This week, her class is working on the letter M. A very important letter indeed … for it is the first letter of Madeline and Mommy, of course.
She stood on her little chair next to me, as close as she could possibly get, and leaned in to watch the frosting whirling around the mixing bowl. She touched my arm and told me she had a secret. I bent down to get a good listen.
Usually it sounds like hushed, wet tones of ghjksuyshjthjkghuks. And then she’ll ask me a question or I won’t respond appropriately, and she’ll know I didn’t get a lick of what she said. Tonight, though, it was clear. Clear as day.
“You’re doing a good job, Mom.”
I swear that child kills me sometimes.
I’ve been wanting to get a fish eye/wide angle lens f-o-r-e-v-e-r, but with the price tags starting at several hundred dollars, I just couldn’t rationalize it. Even if I sell my photos. But then I found this little gem on Amazon for NINE BUCKS. NINE. At that price, I wasn’t expecting much, but I was wrong. So very wrong.