A Joy-Filled Little Girl

The second trimester is a time of renewed energy, heightened self-confidence, and unbridled joy over your growing belly.  At least, that's what the experts say.

I'm pretty tired.  And I want to go to sleep, but the heartburn is not letting me lay down.  (You really wanted to know that, didn't you?)  I owe the lethargy to a particularly energetic two year old who now consistently wakes up at 5am and hasn't napped for two days because she doesn't seem to want to afford her mother a much-needed afternoon mental respite.  It's okay.  I've endured worse.  And, really, I know, someday I'll be longing for the time I got to sit on the floor just outside my little girl's room with my Bible and workbook, doing homework, and reminding her to lay down every 45-60 seconds as she pops her head up and jumps out of bed in protest.  That's true, right?  I really will long for that twenty years from now, won't I?

I went through the nap nightmare about 9 months ago.  It involved a harrowing couple of weeks worth of sitting on the floor outside her bedroom door and doing exactly what I did today - reminding her to lay down at regular intervals.  You see, two year olds might be stubborn, but *this girl* won't be out-willed by a toddler.  (I wonder where they get that character trait from?)  I think this is clutch in parenting.  I'm not tooting my own horn.  I've shed tears, raised my voice, and all but lost my mind in frustration, but at the end of the harrowing couple of weeks, Sarah was napping in her bed.  I won.  Consistency is key.

I didn't really plan on blogging about all of that.  My bad.

The whole point of this post is to say that even though I may find myself frustrated with this particularly energetic and wily two year old on a regular basis, I also find myself in awe of her spirit.  She, not unlike her big sister, has an inherent joy about her that just brings out happiness.

She will find a way to laugh and to make you laugh while doing it.

Today, it was jumping with every ounce of her being (and naked little hiney) from the coffee table to the couch, without regard whatsoever to personal safety (or modesty).

She rocks.

I won't even go into my evolution from helicopter "Don't jump off of the furniture without your helmet and knee-pads on" mom to "Sure, jump from piece of furniture to piece of furniture, just don't expect a lot of sympathy when you bust your face open" mom.  I think the difference in me now is that I'm selfish.  I want to experience the joy of her experiencing joy. 

She just does it so freely.  And so well.

Twenty years from now, I might remember sitting on her floor praying she'd just give up and go to sleep, but I hope I remember this face and the uninhibited little-girlness.  She's a special princess, my Sarah.  And I'm so blessed to have this time with her.


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