Some mornings are rushed, which brings on the frustrations of trying to get your 2 year old to get on her shoes, put on the jacket she doesn't want to wear and that 2 year old is now wanting the juice she told you she didn't want - as you're driving away from the house and she'll make you feel like a horrible mommy because you're denying her the little juice box. "Would it have been so much trouble to go back for it; we're running late anyway; what's another minute" says self and the guilt of dropping off your now pouty one as you kiss her for the day promising you'll be back for her later (with juice) is magnified. Today? This morning was not one of those mornings. This morning she got her cup of milk and that little juice box came with us and she happily slurped it down on the stretch from home to daycare. She kissed me at the entryway of her daycare and said "shee oo yater mummy". We even had enough time to snap some photos before starting for the door. I don't think it's possible to love anything or anyone as much as a mini person created from within yourself.
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