My Girl

Today. Four years ago. Around this time that I write. It was 9:30 pm and it was not snowing, in fact there was no snow. The windows were open in the hospital and *Mila* came into our world that night in Oakville during a balmy +18 degrees Celsius on March 5th. She wrapped her little hands around our hearts and we have never spent a night apart. Well, her and I haven't. In four years, I have slept within 30 feet of her. A part of me can't let go of that. She has become more and more of a kid and less and less of a baby. She is her own person now and I am proud of the decisions and choices she is making. She's a wonderful little character and her voice is like a song that rings inside my head every moment of my life.

It is so difficult to explain what it is like to be a parent, until you are one. Nothing prepares you for it. Nothing. I remember thinking to myself around 5 years ago..."Well, I don't go to the bar any more. How hard can this be?" Not quite the same. It's not as if you just one day jump off the couch and open the door and say "Out you go, kid! I've had enough of you and your ketchup stained clothes and your messy room. Get your own place now."

The past four years have been both challenging and rewarding. How many times have you heard those sickeningly sweet words? Every mother utters those words. We try to explain how hard its been for us, but we love our little dears so much that it really was nothing. Ok. That is a big fat lie. It has been hell. The past four years have been hell. I worked on a trading floor with fund managers. The energy in that room was nothing compared to this. I never once had to balance a pencil on my head, standing on one foot with a barking dog behind me whilst changing a diaper that was still being filled. Nope. And I didn't have to have an argument with a three year old about attending an hour's worth of art lessons. Nuh-huh. I did once have to share lunch with someone who sputtered and wore a bib during a regular business day. True. For that I did get a pay cheque. Oh, I am not bitter. No one put me here and told me to do this. *Steve* and I agreed that we would be the ones to provide the first 4 or 5 years of nurturing to our child. She'd be the only one and no one can give her that same level of love that we can at home. Well, maybe Gramma could. But Gramma just endured a 24-hour traveling adventure to land on our doorsteps in the midst of yet another snowstorm. She doesn't exactly live next door. And we've tried to guilt her into moving, but it hasn't worked for my brother or I over the past 8 years.

It's now 4 years on the nose since I breathed my last breath of laughing gas, felt numb from the epidural bliss and wondered what the hell I had just done. Sure, it is challenging. But no one can tell you how wonderful it feels when someone who loves you and needs you more than life itself holds your hand as she falls asleep beside you. That is just beyond words and just far beyond rewarding. It's divine. namaste

signed, the willow