Willow's Journey

I could kick myself for not keeping a baby book for Willow....(I won't, because I am against violence, but I do deserve a good kick!)

I thought about it often, but every time the thought crossed my mind, guilt and sadness overwhelmed my being. 

"I am not the one that should be keeping a baby book, filling in all of the precious firsts that take place in Wee ones life..."  is what I kept telling myself.  Truth is, I was the one that has been blessed to see all of those precious moments that Moms treasure. 

Willow's  first time rolling over, sitting up, her first tooth, crawling and then walking...the  dancing and singing.  Do I remember it all?  Yes, I was there for all of it! but I wish i would have documented it all for her to read about when she is older.

I am going to make up for it!  Right here, right NOW I am going to record all of the wonderful things that happen on Wee Willow's Journey and share it with you! 

Now, since I am behind I most likely will be sharing some exciting "firsts" from her past as well.  Why not?  I can share whatever I want here... It is my blog, right? (And I'm sure there will be lots of photos thrown in just for fun!)

Winnie the Pooh

I know, I know.  I keep telling myself the same thing.  
It's just Winnie the Pooh... Why get so worked up about it?      Because it's Winnie the Pooh.... that's why.  

Willow and I have a nighttime routine.  
I run the bath water while  she runs around the bathroom naked tearing the towels off the shelf.   I give her her bath and float her around on her back while she makes fishy faces pretending she is a fish.  
When bath fun is over, she is dried and wrapped up in her butterfly towel and we sit on the edge of the tub while I dry her hair with the hairdryer and she brushes her eat.  Yes, I know, I said eat-- for some reason that is what she calls "teeth."  
It does make sense I guess--teeth...eat.  (Don't worry!  I am getting to the Pooh part!!) 

When we are done upstairs with bath and eat, we head down to where Papa has her jammies, socks and diaper waiting.  
We rub lotion all over, put a clean diaper on and then jammies.  Wee one runs around a bit, plays with everyone, and then I tell her it is night-night time.  
She walks around saying "bye" to everyone and blows them kisses.   
We head upstairs with blankies (one and two)  and bottle in hand, and cuddle up on my bed-- and this is where Pooh comes in. 

I usually let her pick her bedtime story and 90% of the time, yep, you guessed!  It's a Winnie the Pooh story.  

Willow will lie in my arms and listen as she drinks her bottle, following the story with her eyes until they begin to slowly close.  Soon her bottle is gone and the book is finished.  

She opens her eyes and usually makes goofy faces at me on our way to her bed.  This is so cute because she is barely awake, but feels the need to send me on my way with a smile!  We say our goodnight prayers during that little walk,  I kiss her Wee little forehead, place her in her crib and tell her to sleep like an angel and that Grammie loves her. 

You see, Pooh is ours.  Her BM asked if I would not take Willow to see the new Winnie the Pooh movie until she got out of treatment because she wanted to take her.  She hasn't put Willow to bed in 10 months, and she doesn't know any of what I shared with you about mine and Wee ones Pooh time.  
Nor has she ever read a Winnie the Pooh story to her.... 
so therefore, I ask you, am I silly being so worked up about this?  

It's okay-- Hit me with the truth.  I can take it.... well, maybe.

 "Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart." - Winnie the Pooh

Ohhh, Momma

I love it when she says that.
It is usually when she is hurt or scared.  She looks up at me with those big brown eyes, and in her Wee little voice says, "Ohhh, Momma?"  as if she is asking if it is going to be okay.
My       heart       melts.  
Yes, Willow, it is going to be okay.  
                     I will make sure of it.  

It is getting easier when she calls me Momma.  
At first I had twinges of guilt every time she said it.  I am not her Momma- I am her Grandmother!  But that twinge is gone now.
  
I have always called myself Grammie when talking to her.  Everyone else does the same--- "Go give that to Grammie..."  
               yet she still calls me Momma.  
Wee one still calls her real Mother Momma, too.  Maybe to her it is just a name.  She hears her aunts and uncles call me Mom, so maybe she thinks that's just who I am-- Mom. 

I am sure that the day will come when she will look up at me with those same big eyes, and in her Wee little voice say, 
"Ohhhh, Grammie?"  and that will be okay, 
but for today, 
             I am Momma.