Love You More

Tonight is the third night Chloe's been away from home. I did see her briefly yesterday before she left to drive up the hill...snuck home and helped her pack her suitcase, brushed the snarls from her hair and made a braid, and got some hugs before she left.

I miss her. It's been lovely to have adult time, wonderful to not be rushed or harried or stressed out, nice that the house stays clean. But, boy do I miss that girl. Miss her hugs and her songs and her silliness. Miss snuggling in bed and I love yous. Miss her tangle of hair and the freckles across her nose. Miss the smell of the top of her head when she cuddles against me.

I'm not sure that I've really felt this before. I've always been so overwhelmed by the sheer weight of her. The needs, the touching, the constancy of motherhood. When Ron and I have taken our couple of night getaways it's different...we're not in our house without her. Not living our normal life with her not here. It's been a wake up call for me. I've always told myself that when she grew up and moved away I'd feel free, that I wouldn't be one of those empty nest moms who mourned. Hmmm. I was clearly wrong with that prediction.

I know she's growing up and that she'll eventually grow right away from us. And yes, that's our job, to make her independent. But right now, right here, I'm glad she's just ten. Still little enough to love me thoroughly. Still little enough to hug and to snuggle with and to have sleepovers in my bed. Still little enough to always want her foot against me when we sleep, or to curl herself up against my back, or to mumble "snuggle" to me in the night. Still little enough that we can play "love you more." Still little enough that I can smell the baby that I birthed in her warm hair.

Still little enough to be mine. At least for a few more moments. And I am going to relish them a little more than I ever have.

Sunshine, I love you more.