She spent last weekend at her Grandma's house, both Friday and Saturday night. As she was walking towards Grandma's car on Friday evening, I could see in her eyes that this moment was an important one for her, her last moment to make a decision whether she would go or stay. She seemed torn. Alone. Independent. And just as I expected her to change her mind and run back towards the house, she turned and blew me a kiss goodbye.
Her most recently thrifted stuffed animal was a furry teddy bear. She watched it spin in the dryer for the duration of it's somersaults, her legs crossed as she viewed intently. Poor bear didn't survive. Lost it's stuffing. She recovered quickly, as she does in these kind of losses.
Watching her hold and play and chat with Leo is almost too sacred for words. Her love for him seems endless, right from the very start until these days as she protects him from small objects and echoes words of affirmation and feeds him in the back seat while we drive, among other sisterly pursuits. I long for my M in these moments and the life with a doting Stella that she missed out on. I ache for what Stella lost in sisterhood.
She and her cousin Miles wrestled a little while back, rolling on the ground over a plastic arrow, each trading punches and slaps and tackles until they grew tired and retreated to their respective parental corners. It was a thing of beauty, watching the two of them work it out on their own, the familial bond growing.
If there is one thing to be said about the current state of my Stella, on her fourth birthday, is that she's a real trooper for tagging along on her parents sudden whim to move to Indiana in the middle of winter. She is cold and homesick and taking it all in stride.
Happy fourth, my sweet babe. Where has the time gone?