Tag Archives: middle

To Plum at Four

Posted in Children, Kid Stuff, Kids, Miscellany by

(Late again on this birthday update – time and tax season are to blame.  But now, here we are, just around the corner from Pickle’s 6th, so Plum certainly deserves a small ode to her 4th.)

https://www.instagram.com/p/BEcK_UjO42t/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

To Plum at Four

And just like that, you turned the corner from toddler to kid.  Little to big.

 

https://www.instagram.com/p/BD1ss9Ru4wY/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

My sweet Plum with the “golden” hair and silly hula moves.

https://www.instagram.com/p/7ESvO2u4wt/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

You are the brightest star.  I finally understand what it means when they say someone is “beaming” because your huge smile IS sunshine.  Actual sunshine.

https://www.instagram.com/p/8vtb6eO4z3/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

You love to play and be heard.  You love your own space.  Your hugs are always lovely surprises.

https://www.instagram.com/p/88ddgfO41O/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

You are brave.  You love to run.  You love to help (until you don’t).  You love Elsie cat so much we worry slightly for her safety.  You are good at being part of a team.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BDgYtoGu42W/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

You are silly and smart, fun and funny.  You are confident.  You work hard.  And more than anyone I know, the camera catches the essence of you.  Perhaps because you don’t hold back, or perhaps because you just can’t help but let your light shine through.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BB_XTYuO460/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

You are my middle, and perhaps – unsure when to lead and when to follow – you just decided to do it your own dang way in your own sweet time.   And I love you for it.

https://www.instagram.com/p/BBL-FHdu49-/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

Happy birthday Plum.  Four is awesome, and so are you.

https://www.instagram.com/p/4u9dX9u4-W/?taken-by=sarkytartlet

Middle Hours

Posted in Kids, Mommydom, Parenting by

middle

My middle. My girl. Fierce, wide-eyed, brave. With your loud, true laugh and a run that looks like dancing, skipping, rushing. Like your feet can’t keep up.

You’ve never loved hugs. They don’t suit you in the daylight.

But at night, when the house is sleeping, you crawl into my bed, pulling the covers over you and my arms around you. Placing my arms where you would like them. Silently asking to be held and showing me how. Nestled into my chest. Sighing.

And there you stay, for five minutes or forty-five. Quiet. Awake. Close. Until I ask gently if you are ready, ready to go back to your bed. Sometimes you need more time. Sometimes you whisper “yes” and sneak with me back into the room where your brother sleeps so deeply. And I cover you up, whisper “I love you” and watch as you smile and close your eyes.

My middle, my center.