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Madeleine Anne

November 5, 2012

Day 5 of 30 Days of Gratitude

I am thankful for Madeleine Anne.

Madeleine is my first born.  Madeleine is my only girl and the one who shares my eyes and my curiosity.  My girl is amazing.

It was flu shot day today.  I combined with a visit to the dr for a follow up for an asthma visit we had in the summer–just a chance to check in and find out if we really, REALLY needed to get the shot.  A please, pretty please can’t we get the flu mist instead? sort of visit.  They said no.  I braced myself, mentally trying to prep myself to restrain my 60+ bundle of strength and power.  Instead, I managed to distract her with Fruit Ninja on my phone and the shot consisted of zero tears.  I was amazed since at just the mention of needing the shot, she buried her head into my shoulder and begged me to spare the torture of a flu shot.  Afterwards, we went for lunch at a little, not fancy Japanese restaurant where we ate a plain salmon roll, miso, teriyaki, and tempura, with chopsticks as we could manage.  It was a wonderfully enjoyable experience.

I sat across the table from Madeleine and marveled at her.  Too often, she is the one I come down hardest on.  She is the first born, she has my stubbornness and curiosity which clashes with me.  She knows exactly how to push all of our buttons.  She’s a smart one.  As I sat looking at my seven year old, I remembered rocking her as a baby, begging her to sleep at night.  I remembered her gentleness with those who needed a little more gentleness–my 90 something year old grandparents, the autistic child in her kindergarten class, the new girl at school, and the really shy kid at school.  I remembered her sensitivity to what is going on around her.  I remembered her endless string of questions that come mostly because she just needs to know—what’s under the road, why the sky is blue, what makes Obama and Romney different.  I remembered her wisdom in writing her campaign speech for her second grade class (all students were required to write one)–she thought there should be shorter recess every day, but she knew how well that would go over, since most classmates would want more recess.  She compromised and suggested one day a week, recess should be a little longer.  I remembered her desire to create and organize and to not fit into any boxes–as was evident her choice for a Halloween costume—a lion–when most girls her ages just dressed up girlier in some fashion.  I remembered her tenacity in playing soccer and her willingness to do whatever a teacher or coach asked of her, even it was hard and challenged her.

My girl is amazing.  No matter if she did any of these things or so much more, she would be amazing.  She is amazing because she is growing, because she is maturing, because she is becoming more who she is to become.  I am thankful for my Ms. M.

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