Channeling Her Inner Rockette

I love to curl up with Miss A is in her twin-size white wooden bed, beneath the painted clouds on the ceiling, and snuggle at bedtime. She likes to put her arm across me. Of course I know this is her way of pinning me down and making sure I don’t sneak off under the guise of “Mommy will be right back,” but it’s still endearing.

There are so many little signature things my girls do that I’m already starting to forget. Heck I can’t even remember what I ate for breakfast yesterday. I also can’t remember the last time I did any scrapbooking and, who am I kidding, mommy blog this may be pegged but this blog is really more of a creative outlet for me than a true diary of their childhood milestones. There are little things about big sister Miss C as a toddler that have slipped my mind and I’m afraid may be lost forever. We watched a DVD of Miss C from her third Christmas not long ago and I had forgotten how much she loved her paci and how she said “yiyo” for video. But I have written about Miss A’s kicking wall.

Some kids have loveys and some have favorite stuffed animals. My kid? Likes to kick. (Too bad she has not yet taken to soccer because the girl has a power kick.)

The other night as we lay in bed Miss A kicked her bare foot against the cool wall.

“Mommy this is still my kicking wall, but I’m afraid to kick it too hard sometimes. I might knock a hole in it!”

Of course I explained to her that she could still kick her wall, even though she is getting to be a big girl, if it helped her fall asleep. Hey if it helped me relax, I’d kick a wall, too.

I couldn’t believe I had almost forgotten about the kicking wall.

If we ever sell our little ranch style house here in the ‘burbs I’m going to miss the cheery yellow kicking wall. I’m going to miss the painted clouds on the ceiling in Miss A’s room, which was the nursery for both girls, and I already know I’m going to miss snuggling at bedtime.

6 comments

  1. Jennifer says:

    When we moved in to our house there was a door in the garage where they had marked their kids heights as they had grown. I couldn’t figure out how you could leave something like that behind.
    .-= Jennifer´s last blog ..The baby one =-.

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