Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Swiming Past Milestones

I signed Madaline up for swimming lessons.
All it took was an old fashion check for $20.00 and the registration form out of the community newspaper. Add in the cost of a postage stamp to and she now gets to attend 3 weeks of lessons at the high school pool. Believe it or not, this is the exact same community based learn to swim program that taught me to swim 25+ years ago. Actually, I think you would be hard pressed to find any adult, teenager or child in our county that has not been through this program. To me, it is a testament of what small town living is all about. And, so, yesterday morning, still in my jammies, a towel still wrapped around my wet hair from my morning shower, I stood at the end of our porch holding a little hand. The little hand of a growing child who just minutes before needed my help with the zipper on her favorite well worn monkey hoodie. A little hand that was softly quivering with excitement and nervousness. Out of the corner of my eye I watched the skirt of her bathing suit move softly in the early morning breeze. Her trusty beloved companion, Bear, was tucked into the crook of her other arm. She was waiting as patiently as possible for her Daddy to finish putting her towel, his coffee and our camera in the car. "Carry me Daddy...pwease...da grass is wet"

"Of course baby girl - just a minute" he replied.

I knelt down and wrapped my arms around my baby. I pulled her close, closed my eyes and inhaled the lingering scent of her bubble bath from the night before. I whispered in her ear that mama loved her, to have fun, to listen and to be good. I planted a kiss on her forehead, almost getting lost in her big blue eyes as she gave me a kiss and threw her arms around my neck. With a smile that never seems to end I heard her sweet voice sing "Mommy....I love you too".I stood up as my husband scooped her up off the porch, her sun streaked pigtails bobbing up and down with each step, as he went to buckle her into the car seat.

"Wave to mommy" and a little hand enthusiastically moved from side to side just before he shut the door.

"Have fun" I called "Oh, and Honey...don't forget that Molly is meeting you at the Field House to help you find the pool". And as if on cue, the lump in my throat rose as he started the car. Tears were brimming in the corners of my eyes as my husband turned to wave just before I heard him shift the car into the drive. It wasn't until the car rolled out the end of the driveway, around the front of the house, just out of view, that they began to fall. I dragged my feet back across the length of the deck. When I reached the back door, the smell of coffee tickling my nose, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the back door. My heart skipped as beat as my mind registered what I was seeing. There in my reflection, I could clearly see my tear streaked cheeks. The streaky wet evidence of the bittersweet knowledge that my baby was about to swim her way past another milestone on her journey to becoming a little girl.


Calina said...

Oh my-this put tears in my eyes too. I just took Emma to get her hair cut(which WAS down to her butt) to donate to Locks of Love. I was feeling kinda melancholy too. And still am, if I'm being honest. She looks so grown up-and she will be 6 in a month-how does this happen?! Anyway, great post. Very recognizable emotions. :-)

Deanna said...

Loved the post! :) I can relate to those proud emotions and realization that your baby is growing up. :*)

Kameron said...

I feel that way at each and every new thing the baby is doing. While it is fun and dweet to see them experience new things it is sad that they get farther and farther away from babyhood. :o)

Molly Louise said...

:) (My smile's a little watery.)

Connie Weiss said...

I read this last night and tried to comment but my phone was mad at me.

Reading this post was the perfect end to my perfect day with my kids.

Thank you for sharing and telling the story so well!

Loukia said...

What a very sweet and touching post. So bittersweet, so bittersweet.