Exploring Womanhood > Journals > Growing Together: A Journal From Mother to Daughter > Entries

Entry #3 ~ February 4, 2002
~ Big Spoons and "Baby" Spoons

Dear Charon,

You change right before my eyes. You're really becoming a big girl. I am constantly surprised by the new things you do.

You try to draw people now. "Eyes, mouth, shirt, pants," you say, as you make little squiggles, trying to get them in the right location on the paper. You sing the ABC's; Daddy told me that one day on the way home from Toys R Us, you were in a never-ending cycle of the song: "Now I know my A B C D E F G." You can say, "I hungry," and you are so good at explaining what you want to eat. You can say, "I scared," and you know that asking for a hug will make it better.

I recently realized that you are now tall enough to see into the silverware drawer. Today, you helped me put away forks, big spoons, and "baby" spoons, matching them to their spots. You were so proud to be helping me. I said, "You are such a helper," and you agreed, "Charon helper."

You are growing up so fast, that sometimes I wonder where my baby went. But then, just as I get nostalgic about it, that baby comes back for a visit. In fact, she was here earlier today.

You didn't want to go to playgroup. "Charon's house," you insisted. "Charon's home." I coaxed and "pleeeease"d and tried to get you interested by telling you about the brand new toys that would be there for you to play with. When I made you laugh by calling you "Little Bear," you finally gave in and let me slip your arms into your coat and zip you up.

When we arrived, you saw their dog. I didn't even think to prepare you for her. The last dog you met was bigger than you were and came right up to you to try to lick your face. "Doggie? Doggie, Mom?" you questioned. You were curious, but very cautious. You had wrapped your arms and legs around my body, clinging to me. Needless to say, in this position it was difficult to get your winter gear off, and next to impossible to remove mine. You wanted to stay, but you also wanted to stay attached to me. I tried to explain to you that this dog would be very gentle with you, and that you could stand next to me, and it would be okay. The dog calmly observed all of this from her place on the couch.

You slowly moved away from me during the next two hours, checking back often, though, and always hopping into my lap whenever the dog entered the room. Unfortunately, when we were getting ready to go, our friend decided to hang out in the living room and watch us from her post on the couch again. I struggled to stuff my feet into my boots while you were sitting on me.

I was pretty relieved when we stepped outside. But then you dropped your lemon poppyseed bread on the ground by mistake, and you started crying. Hard. You usually shrug off stuff like this, and you surprised me. It was a big deal today. A great loss. I finally found you a cracker (hard to do with your arms and legs wrapped around me again), and you stopped crying, I think because you appreciated the effort I was making. You still looked so sad. I just wanted to hug you all the way home.

You were tired, of course. Hanging out with a dog is hard work. When we got to "Charon's house," I brought you upstairs to try an early nap. As I held you in my arms and nursed you to sleep, I touched your soft cheek with the back of my finger, and smoothed your baby hair with my palm. You still let me do that sometimes, but just for a short while. Now that you're a big girl, it keeps you awake, whereas it used to help comfort you into a cozy slumber. I stroked that beautiful cheek once, twice, then your hair, once, then forced myself to stop so that you could rest.

In case you were wondering, the nap helped, and you were in a much better mood in the afternoon. You even helped me put the silverware away. My big girl was back.

I love you,
Mom