She embraced me for a long time this morning, “I love you forever.” she repeated over and over again.
She will be four years old in a few weeks. Four going on twenty four. I notice the way she now grows embarrassed about certain things. The way her precious feelings are hurt by the other kids.
We call them “toddlers,” “preschoolers” but they are little people with as much feelings and wonderings and imaginings as anyone else.
I forever try to remember this, when I find myself growing irritated, upset. To remember how deeply they feel, they understand. To treat her a little more grown up. To speak to her in a deeper way. To get down on her level and find out what is going on in that constantly spinning brain of hers.
Mostly though, I try to give her memories of love. Deep love. Because although she is but a “toddler,” these days are laying the foundation of her forever.
And so although we had a million and one things to do today, I embraced her this morning until she finally let go. And I repeated back each time, “I love you forever, sweet girl.”