I think I fall more in love with my daughter with season. Or maybe it's every month. Every day? It's a steady progression, that I know. A week goes by and I feel more of an attachment to this little fireball of energy. Those moments of growing attachment are laced with feelings of frustration as this wee girl demands independence, wanting to explore everything around her, to touch everything she possibly can so she can understand how it all works.
Two weeks ago we were on our annual trek to a quiet Florida beach town with my family. I say trek because the word "vacation" may not be as apt a description as it was pre-Snugs. It's rewarding in a whole new way, though I wouldn't always say it's relaxing.
There was one night where the ten of us agreed to go out to dinner instead of eating in. It usually involves us going to the downtown area, which is a lovely little old district near the bay. You can check out the shrimping boats coming in each evening, the boats filled with people and dinner parties, buy coffee at the token local coffee shop (owned by my friend's friend, randomly enough), or buy a pirate trinket (pirates are their town mascots, yarrrrghh!). You can also buy fudge and ice cream at the best little fudge shop around (and the only one). It's a little treat that we enjoy every year.
It was crowded (typical) and I wasn't planning on buying ice cream because I didn't want to fight that battle with Snugs on how much she could have. I did try a sample or two and let her try a bite, but then I thought that I would do what I rarely do, which is to give in and let her have a treat. The joy that instantly spread across her face when she saw a cup of ice cream and learned it was for her was one I'd never seen on her before. Her eyes quite literally lit up and her lips spread happily. At that moment, my heart felt a fullness that filled my entire being. That's so silly to write (I try to keep my emotions in check most of the time), but it's true. If I gave in to her frequently, I don't think it would be the same. And it didn't make me want to give in to her more than it already did. What it did to was offer me a realization of just how much each action I take as her mama will affect her. As excited as she was about a treat, her fragile feelings can be damaged just as easily. I've seen the crestfallen look on her face when my exasperation is too thinly veiled, or she misunderstood my tone when I worry that she's about to her herself somehow.
The ice cream incident was so much more than giving in to my daughter. For me, it was the lesson I needed to remember how influential I am and will continue to be, and to think about what kind of memories I want her to have of me. It won't be about giving in to her every desire but it will be about weaving compassion and love through everything I do.
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