I definitely have two daddy's girls on my hands. And I'm really more than okay with this...even though I carried them both for 9 months - with one bringing me a ridiculous amount of vomiting and one through the extreme heat of a South Louisiana summer - and birthed them in the middle of the night, fed them from my own body for months and months (in the middle of the night) and I spend my days wiping their noses and bottoms repeatedly throughout the day. Why am I so okay with this? Because I am a big daddy's girl, too - always have been, always will be. Love you, daddy!
We both play different roles in our girls lives, though, and I thought about that yesterday. Lynnsie and Anna Beth were playing in the other room, spinning and twirling around, when the inevitable happened - AB twirled right into Lynnsie, knocking her not only down, but into the door frame...upper lip first. Poor thing. She cried. She screamed. And there was blood. Jacob got to her first, scooped her up, and tried to apply a wet cloth to her lip. But she wasn't having any of it.
She just kept reaching for me and saying, "I want Mommy!" So, I took her. Bloody lip and all. I was wearing an old t-shirt, so I really wasn't worried about the blood. The blood finally stopped and we moved to the living room, per her request, to rock. Then the tears finally stopped. As soon as they did, she wanted down and wanted to go to daddy.
Of course, he didn't refuse his sweet little Lynnsie. She climbed into his lap and just sat there. Very content. All it took was one little look from her daddy and a HUGE smile spread instantly across her face.
She loves her daddy. And I love their relationship.
my humble attempt at writing about my God, my kids, my family, our adoption, attempts at craftiness & sewing, & whatever else comes to mind...
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