I Have A Stalker

She follows me around the room with her eyes...in a creepy cute way.  It's like one of those portraits where the artist draws the eyes in such a way that no matter where you stand, you are being ogled.  But, the thing is, I love it.  To any other person, I'm just E the _______.  (Be nice--I was thinking of nouns like friend, sister, teacher, wife, etc., so don't get carried away.)  But to her, I am EVERYTHING.  She loves to be near me, smell me, touch me, be strapped like a backpack to my body all day long.  When she gets passed around the room, her eyes never leave my direction.  Sometimes I'll be doing something and I look up and there she is staring, for who knows how long, at my face.

So, I guess the point of this post is to remind myself to stop and stare back.  Actually, I've made it a goal to stare at her in the same creepy way when she's not looking and wait for her to catch my eye.  The toothy grin that she flashes me followed by the shrieks of excitement are worth 1000 minutes of waiting.  (Seriously, sometimes it takes her a while to notice.)  Because before I know it, I won't be her center.  If I'm lucky, I'll be in her close peripheral but will probably lose first place forever.

I'm going to hold her more, pass her around less.  I'm going to sneak into her room at night, in the hours when it seems like even time is sleeping, and I'm going to get back those wasted moments.  I'm going to drink in the smell of her which is usually food because the girl loves her meals.  I'm going to get her to laugh her deep throaty laugh (totally different from her sister's laugh) and then I'm going to treasure it in my heart later that day when I'm alone and the noises are gone.  I'm going to do these things now because time doesn't pause for anyone.  There's a poem I read, when I still only had enough room for myself in my heart, that left a mark.  Its message was to stop. and. cherish. the. moments.  They slip by way too fast.    

Childhood Doesn't Wait 

I was sitting on a bench
while in a nearby mall,
When I noticed a young mother
with two children who were small.

The youngest one was whining,
"Pick me up," I heard him beg
but the mother's face grew angry
as the child clung to her leg."

"Don't hang on to me," she shouted
as she pushed his hands away,
I wish I'd had the courage
to go up to her and say..."

"The time will come too quickly
when those little arms that tug,
Won't ask for you to hold them
or won't freely give a hug."

"The day will sneak up subtly
just as it did with me,
When you can't recall the last time
that your child sat on your knee."

"Like those sacred, pre-dawn feedings
when we cherished time alone
Our babies grow and leave behind
those special times we've known."

"So when your child comes to you
with a book that you can share,
Or asks that you would tuck him in
and help him say his prayer..."

"When he comes to sit and chat
or would like to take a walk,
Before you answer that you can't
`cause there's no time to talk"

"Remember what all parents learn
so many times too late,
That years go by too quickly
and that childhood doesn't wait."

"Take every opportunity,
if one should slip away
Reach hard to get it back again,
don't wait another day."

I watched that mother walk away
her children followed near,
I hope she'll pick them up
before her chances disappear

by Kathie Davis

(I guess a sub-point of this poem is, also, not to be a jerk.)

G, mama loves you!  I welcome any and all creepy looks from you!