Tuesday, August 17, 2004
I am listening to a new CD that arrived in the mail yesterday – it’s a group called The Weepies. The sound of the singer’s voice and the general meaning of the lyrics had me crying last night (in a good way) the very first time I listened to the CD.
Something about it feels nostalgic. The first track (the title track, too) is called "Happiness" ("you can't steal happiness") and while I was listening to it, I was playing with Katie after having just gotten home from work, and she was smiling and laughing and laughing at me, and I just kept thinking, the way lately every day I keep thinking –
SHE IS PERFECT JUST THE WAY SHE IS - PLEASE DON'T EVER CHANGE
but on the other hand I know that if she didn't change, it would mean that there was something wrong with her, and I don't want for there to be anything wrong with her EVER, so of course I want for her to change and grow and learn and become even more wonderful (if that's possible!), and also to become more of her own person with her own interests and her own friends and her own life which will be at least partially separate from mine, which means that these moments of sitting on the bed with my baby, listening to new music, smiling at her and kissing her cheeks, watching her face as she smiles and laughs with me and grabs at my hair and caresses my cheek, are SO FEW and so brief. I will cherish them forever.
And I guess this is one of the quandaries of being a parent - you love your child SO MUCH while she is dependent on you and while her world revolves around you - and in fact you love her so much in part because she is dependent on you, and because her world revolves around you - and yet because you love her so much, you have to (and you do) hope for the arrival of the day when she no longer needs you. My baby is right here, and yet I kind of miss her already, sometimes, and I guess that's what I was crying about last night.