Slipping Through My Fingers...

Listening to the hits of Abba sung by Meryl Streep and the girl from Mean Girls (you know, the dumb one) had me in tears tonight. Not because either one was especially Oscar-worthy or stupendous (though they were quite good), but because Meryl was a single mom, who raised a beautiful and intelligent daughter and the whole movie is the night before said-daughter's wedding.

I actually had Emilia with me, thinking she would sleep through the whole thing, but she watched the movie and grooved her little bobble head to the tunes. Holding her tiny hand, I realized that someday her and I will be in the same situation.

It might not be the night before her wedding, or on a gorgeous Greek Island, but one day I'm going to look at that sweet face and realize that she's not my little girl to hold onto... but instead, an adult. And just like the movie, I hope that she wants me there anyway.

I'm not sure why the waterworks are coming on so strong now. I've been a daughter and had a mother of my own my whole life. But the world provides a whole new view through the Mommy window...

So I guess I'm doomed to cry at every movie, song, poem, haiku, bumper sticker and kitchen magnet that mentions daughters, or mothers, or growing up.... forever, I guess.

Bring it on home, Abba...

"Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I cant deny

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see whats in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time"

My new vocabulary...

I've oft been accused of using rare and unusual words both in my writing and normal language. My children's literature professor used to write KISS on my stories... (no, it wasn't a proposition. it means Keep It Simple Stupid). Sometimes I'll say or write a word and not even know where it came from, or why I thought it necesssary to say it at that moment...

Here's a rundown of some of the newest words and phrases I find myself saying lately...

Bumbo, boppy, binky, boo, Elsie-bug, diapie, feetsies, sleepy-sleep, boogie-bear, Snugli, gassie-bubbles, burpies, onesies, Chunky Monkey, noodle, kissy-boo, pajama jam (as in, "let's have one!") and wiggle-worm...

It's not like she even understands any of these items yet, so I could call them anything I wanted, like disposable infant underwear, or upright plastic seat. Or I could call her my "highly active infant" or my "robust daughter." But somehow these things just don't roll off the tongue...

The truth is, it won't be long before she's correcting me and telling me, "No Mom, I'm a kindergartner not a cuddle-bug." So why not use make-believe words and silly phrases for awhile?

It might be the only time I can get away with it...

A few words...

on what I look like right now.

I was about to walk out the door and looked down and realized that there was a spot of spit up on my black pants. Low and behold -- there was a twin spot on the other pant leg. Then I realized I hadn't shaved my legs for a few days, and it was pretty obvious. Ok... time to change my pants.

Then I noticed that my shirt was especially wrinkled, from sitting underneath a pile of baby clothes for a few days. And my necklace was on wrong -- with the gemstone facing in, not out.

My hair is a huge grease ball, just piled on top of my head for now. I was wearing flip-flops until I realized that my nail polish was chipped, so now it's slip on closed-toed flats.

My purse is tan, even though my outfit (new and old) is black -- but I don't have the energy to transfer all the necessary items to a black purse.

But don't worry... Emilia looks great in her ocean blue onesie and ruffle-butt skirt/shorts that match her bright blue eyes.

And the truth is, it wouldn't matter if I had my act together and looked like a super model right now -- because all anyone would see is my adorable baby anyway.

So wrinkles, stubble, grease, chipped nail polish and spit up stains be damned. I'm heading out the door.