"No, Gigi, you're a girl. You're mommy's big girl!"
"I not a big girl, I a person!"
"Yes, you are a person indeed."
"Nawwww Momma! I a person! Not a deed!"
Gigi is her own person. I know this. She knows this. But sometimes, I have an irresistible urge to recreate a moment that I had with her brother. There was this one beautiful fall morning about two years ago. Gigi was so small that I was wearing her in a front pack. RJ was barely tolerating me, let alone his sister. One morning, in an effort to calm his tantrums and keep my sanity, we headed to the park. I happened to have a yellow bucket. The light happened to be just right. And, I happened to have my little camera in my backpack. It was magical:
A couple of days ago, in an effort to quell her tantrums and with high hopes for keeping my sanity, I tried to recreate that same magical morning.
She's her own person.
The morning wasn't quite so magical. And it created more tantrums than it quelled. I suspect, however, that someday I'll look back with a smile.
The light wasn't quite as perfect as it was two years ago, but the model certainly was.
She's a person, with opinions on her shoes, her outfits, her car seat, and her lunch (is it wrong to pay a child in Oreo's in order to get her to eat a chicken nugget?).
Secretly, she may be a little angry that her pumpkin patch photo doesn't quite have the same zip as her brother's:
She was not impressed. Second child syndrome. I hope she's not damaged permanently.
So far, she seems to be doing just fine.
And, we did find a little magic of our own that morning.
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