Will wonders never cease?

how do pigs fly?, originally uploaded by toyfoto.

Dear Annabel,

Were you wondering where I've been?

Nearly two months ago I disappeared. For three days I was gone. For three days your access to me was measured in minutes. You were amazing. You seemed to mature overnight.

You started speaking to strangers in sentences. You were in love with your little brother and you had barely met him.

None of that has changed. What has changed is that you share me now, and for a major portion of the day you are entertaining yourself, singing songs, reading books to your miniature animals, and finding new amusements while I hold the baby, change the baby, rock the baby or try and keep the baby happy.

You've not yet asked me to put the baby down or send the baby back. You've not shown even a smidgen of jealousy.

When your father comes home at night, I take walks around the village. With Silas. Not with you. I want to walk, and with you I have to stop for every leaf that's fallen from a tree and some that haven't.

But I gave in recently and took you along. Off we went, you in the stroller and your brother in the sling. I figured we'd be gone five minutes before you'd insist we turn back. You didn't, but we didn't get far either. We reached the village square and you heard music.

You made me stop so you could listen as the brass band played marches and show tunes. You begged me to stay there in the village center and let you out of the stroller.

I wasn't going to get my walk and I knew it.

I unbuckled you and you slid out from under the tray. You held out your hand to me, compelling me to come with as you danced in the cordoned off street.

I stood in the middle of the road trying not to look in the direction of our elderly neighbors, sitting in the lawnchairs they brought to sit on in the median lawns. Your moves were a combination of running around the flower patch and gyrations that would make Olive from Little Miss Sunshine proud. I laughed as they told you how well you dance, knowing full and well that Olive was indeed your mentor.

It was getting dark. I told you we'd stay for one more number and you weasled three more after that.

It was fun. I didn't much mind forgoing the walk.

The next day when you woke up, you asked me to play a game on the porch. You wanted me to bring your brother, even though he was crying.

"Maybe he just wants to hang out with me more."

I hugged you and told you how right you were and how happy you made me.

"You're happy mama? Then I'm happy, too."

It was a sobering moment, because it wasn't your words so much as the flash of sheer bewilderment and relief in your eyes that told me what I really needed to know. That I haven't really been there for you and you were waiting for me to come back. Waiting patiently at that.

I love you, kiddo ... all day and night.

Mama