Thursday, November 29, 2012

In every heart, there is a room

Most of the trees are bare, acting has home to more squirrels than leaves, but there are still a good bunch holding on to their shaky leaves and keeping things feeling more like Fall and less like Winter here on Capitol Hill.

Ada and I spent a crisp morning at the park. It was deserted but for the leaf blowers and riding lawn mowers making more noise than clean spaces. We wandered around a bit, trying to find dogs to pet and tunnels to hide under while sharing crackers and kicking leaves. We ran for nearly a block, all the way to 11th street and then balanced on the edge of the sidewalk back towards 13th.

Having an empty playground meant that I got to chase Ada all over it. Up the stairs, down the slide. Up the ladder, down the ramp. We rode the springy bikes together and crawled under the slide.

I remember being pregnant with Ada and thinking, "Geez, I love this little human!" I had no idea just how completely she'd win me over. My friends have adorable kids, I've got World's Best nieces and nephews and cousins who are darling and charming and smart. But none of them are my Ada. My stubborn and feisty, independent but fiercely needy, assertive, curious, and endlessly entertaining Louise. I guess it's good we're hard-wired to adore our own. Otherwise the seemingly semi-hourly tantrums would probably push me to auction her off to the highest bidder. Not.

Becoming a mother made me realize that our hearts know so little of how much room there is inside. I didn't feel like room was made when I had Ada, but rather room I didn't know existed was filled.

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