Still, even in the thick of my frustration I can't help but be in awe of all the growing that Evangeline is doing. She's adding a handful of words every day to her vocabulary. And her physical skill set is keeping pace. She has these deep eyes that stare at us when she is trying to figure out something we've said or done or that she is watching elsewhere. The other morning Tim was watching THE NUTCRACKER on PBS. Evangeline stopped, started intently at the tv and then started leaping around the room. This only a week after she saw Celtic dancers and added a modified one-leg kick jig to her daily exercises.
Until today, though, I did not fully realize how much she is growing emotionally. The depth of her ability to relate and empathize was heretofore unknown to me. I seriously have no idea how to fully do justice to this moment in our life together but I will fumble through to the best of my ability.
Tim had an indoor soccer game tonight. When he left I went into the living room and started to read a magazine. Evangeline was flitting around talking and screeching to herself. More than likely she was busy finding a new sleeping spot for the little Baby Jesus that is the focal point of the Fisher-Price nativity set my mom gave her last weekend. She's currently determined to let that baby sleep in the most choice locations Chez Rhodes has to offer. Wyatt was completing his 100 lap circuit of the downstairs which he tries to accomplish daily.
The article I was reading made me cry because of how sweet and sad it was. Towards its culmination, I started to cry privately and quietly. Suddenly, Evangeline was at my side staring at my face. She touched my face and asked, "Mama cry?" She then wiped the tears off of my cheeks and asked to be put on my lap. When I complied, she started stroking my hair and face and hugging me. At some point I understood that she was worried, too. Mamas don't cry! Babies cry. So we talked about crying and being sad and she used those eyes to let me know that was taking in what I was saying. After some time of this, she traced her own cheek and said "I cry" and then traced my cheek while saying, "Mama cry." I don't know that I have ever had a moment as pure and as lovely as the one she and I had tonight. And to think, only a few hours earlier she was cramming Wyatt's head into the kitchen floor.
What an honor it is to be her mom.
