A memory I wish to save about putting Wee One to bed on night.
I initially wrote this in January, and just not get around to publishing it. Sorry.
On December 22, I got the first stripe on my white belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.
I mentioned it once, and I’ve been training all this time. I had to step away a certain points, like when I had my gallbladder out, but I’m still in it. I can’t say if I love it like some people opine so vehemently. I like it enough to stick around. I like the challenge. I like working on something that will challenge me for years. Like a puzzle I can do for the rest of my life.
The tag line on this blog is “I write to stop time,” and as I get older, I find I want to stop time more and more. (Actually, I don’t know if that’s true. There were moments I loved and wanted to hold onto when I was younger. Of course, I destroyed all my journals from before the accident and those are the memories I don’t have.)
I have to begin letting go.
Right now, Wee One is in a phase when she tells me, “You need me!” which means, “I need you,” or “I want you here with me.”
I used to say that to my mom. I would say, “I wanna hold you.”
Can you believe it? Wee One is four years old.
For the past four years and nine months, I have been anxious and worried and freaking out about how I would handle having a baby and then a toddler. All that talk about terrible twos and the threenager threat. I was so worried about being a good mother to her during that time.
I had a story idea the other day. It came through one of my favorite avenues: those little pre-sleep dreams.
We all wanted the same thing, and I was one of the first ones taken off the rack. A brand new scrunchy. Like the others, I was white decorated with a red emblem. I was edged with a fine, though lengthy, lace trim. A woman bought me and took me to her home. I was so excited to see the world.
The most amazing wonderful thing happened with Wee One this morning.