learning to skip

It is all about the dance. Not my dance, but her dance; my little girl's dance. I love seeing her dance.

I love walking with her, holding her hand, and letting her know that everything is going to be all good.

Maybe it is more that I am telling myself this as a new page is turned.

But all that matters is that her feet dance. That she wears that smile, and she never forgets how much I love her. If I can show her that she is completely safe with all of her emotions, and it is ok to be happy in front of me, or even sad in front of me, then I too can dance with her.

Parenting is one of the hardest things I will ever do in my life. It too is the most rewarding; you love like you have never loved. And you are loved like you will ever be loved.

Keely: "dance with me mumma. show me how you skip."

me: "ok!"

we skip holding hands through Manly.

Keely: "mum, look you can skip good!"

me: "yes I can, when you hold my hand."

I worry about my girl. I worry as a mother with another woman coming into her life. I worry as she has not stopped saying to me that I am her mummy. I worry as my son turns to me, and talks about his other mummy. I have no doubt this is all natural, and normal. But for me it is all new. And the only people I care about are my children. I care about their feelings. This is something I cannot control. All I can do is put my hand out, and hold theirs.

I skip good.