I try to remember her like this when bitty girl {now a HUGE three...sniff} is talking my head off. She was communicating even then. |
Little bit didn't get the message. Oops. 7:20 and these are my first thoughts for the morning:
Mixed blessings... bitty girl wakes up eager to engage the world. Usually happy, singing, and full of life. She's a spark that refuses to not be heard. Mixed blessing - because, the older I get, the LESS I'm like this. I could use a full hour of mind numbing staring into nothingness as I urgently sip the dark brew of clarity. That's coffee for those of you who somehow missed her addictive qualities. I didn't - I need it to think more than three words or whisper "Mommy's not awake, yet". I need some Solomon's Porch Cafe & Catering "Hylander's Cream".I finally crawl out of bed - get her cherrios {Trader Jo's are the BEST EVER} and yogurt and super why. Don't judge. Brew my cup of sanity.
She comes in. "Mommy, I'm done watching".
Who do I have to blame? I raised her this way. I didn't want her addicted to media.
But I didn't think of my own addiction. So, how horrid is it that right now I wish she would watch?