Tuesday, December 20, 2011



I can feel the chill finding it's way through the cracks of the storm door, but it doesn't seem to bother her. As she leans in, trying to press her head against the cool glass, I hold on tight to her stander so she doesn't tip over.

She has the most beautiful profile. I have always hated mine. It's the nose that goofs it up for me. But her nose...it is absolutely perfect.

Open fisted she bangs, bangs, bangs on the glass, desperately trying to get her sisters' attention. Kendall sees her and quickly comes up to the door, eyes peeking out between hat and scarf.

Brooklyn is giggling as Kendall approaches, and she starts jerking back and forth in her stander in excitement. Kendall opens the door with a snow-covered mitten and gives her baby sister a snotty kiss on the head.

"Careful," I say as she closes the door. Tiny fingers in door jams is one of my biggest Mommy fears.

Emma is now looking for Kendall, and the two decide to play in the driveway as Jeff sweeps away evidence of the first snow. The girls are dancing and don't seem to mind that there is merely a light dust covering the ground.

I look back at Brooklyn. She is watching them closely, smiling and cooing and I swear wishing she could be out there with them. There is a pang in my heart, and I wonder if she knows. She can't possibly, right? Not yet.

Please, not yet.

I am not ready for that day. The day that threatens to take her innocence, her joy. I will do my best to not let that happen, but there will be sadness. This I know.  Jeff and I have often said we'd just like to freeze time, to let her be this age forever.

I decide that there is no reason she can't feel the snow beckoning her from behind the glass. I lay her down, get her out of the stander, and let her sit and watch the girls while I try to find a snowsuit. I quickly search through bins, only to discover that it must be in one of the bins I lent to my sisters.

Defeated, I look around at the mess I've made and see the shoe bin. I've been meaning to pull it out since Brooklyn got her casts off and decide now is a good time to go through it.

I lug the blue bin over to Brooklyn and, together, we sift through the shoes and find ones that will fit over her AFO braces. Some work, some don't. When we are finished, she is left with a pretty good shoe supply, including a pair of red shoes Kendall only wore twice. I leave them on, even though they clash with her pink outfit.

I hear the garage door open and the scuffling of boots and unzipping of snow pants. The girls are asking for a snack and the hot chocolate I promised them. I ask Brooklyn if she wants a snack, and she eagerly signs "eat" with an anxious "tst, tst, tst."

We all head to the kitchen, and I cut up some apples and scatter Cheerios on Brooklyn's highchair. She gathers them and stuffs them in her mouth all at once. I give her "the look," and she just grins, knowing exactly what Mommy's gonna say.

"One at a time, Brooklyn..."

I pour freshly made hot chocolate into mugs and top them with stale marshmallows. I warned the girls that they were stale, but they decided that stale marshmallows were better than no marshmallows at all.

I couldn't agree more. I just hope that someday, she does too.


CJ said...

They leave our sides all too soon! Your writing is so descriptive!!

Kelly B said...

You always say it so beautifully, Lisa. Your and Jeff's love for her is going to make a difference. So let the shoes clash, and let the marshmallows be stale sometimes. God is winking in those moments, smiling and giving *you* that look. One moment at a time...and He's got you, all. xo

Anonymous said...

Your writing is so beautiful! As a mother of a child with Spina Bifida, I know some of the feelings that you describe. My son is 6 so that moment has come for him, and it is heartbreaking. I have had to teach myself to let them happen to some degree, because truthfully, to him, they always don't turn out as badly as I have them pictured in my brain. I have also had to let myself let him do things his way, even if they are not "normal." Which has been to sit in the snow on top of a pillow, getting really really dirty because he crawls across the yard instead of walks, and going through many more clothes in a days time than I ever thought was humanly possible. But I know God has taught me a whole lot about love and life through my hero, my son. God Bless your family.

Leigh and Andy said...

My stomach and heart are in knots after reading this post. I am so right there with you. Grey is almost 3 and "that day" hasn't really come yet...but it's coming soon, I feel it. I cry right now just thinking about it. There is no way that we can shelter our kids from these hard moments and that just breaks my heart. Just know that you aren't alone in wanting to freeze time. I'll google it and see if I can come up with anything. :) Much love to you and your family!