“I don’t know where she learns it from.”
The usual thought that pops into my head when, yet again, you’ve amazed with me something you just said or did. Do I make that face? Did you learn that from me? I often forget that your actions are a reflection of us, and most of the things that you do is attributed to what you see.
As a mother, I want to see you grow and become your own person. However, at the tender age of two, I was definitely not ready for you to have such a solid personality.
Here are five reasons you my daughter, Ridha Zaynab are two going on twenty-five:
- You’re a little bit of a diva. Now, I don’t mean to say that whatever you want, you must have it right at that second. No, you’re not that kind of diva. What I mean is, you have waves of diva-ness. If Baba handed you the milk bottle in the car, it can only be returned to him, doesn’t matter that he’s driving. It takes about 30 minutes every night for you to settle on what pair of PJ’s you’ve agreed to wear. You’ve got drawers full of clothes, but only three acceptable Tee shirts. And the list goes on.
- You carry a purse with important stuff. The items contained in your purse may not signify anything to us, but to you they are the things you simply cannot leave the house without. These include an old, nonfunctional blackberry, an owl chapstick, and coins.
- You always take care of your teddy bear. This is actually very endearing and elder-sisterly of you, albeit it’s towards a bear and not your actual sister. This teddy bear goes everywhere. It’s always by your side or in your sight. It’s in almost every photo I ever take of you. You express concern for him. If he’s missing, I have to make an elaborate alibi so that you’ll sleep without him one night. I hope that this devotion will continue inside of you when you reach motherhood.
- You have your own sense of style. You like to repeat actions that I do everyday, one of them being hijab. I cover my head whenever I leave the house, and now you do the same. It is pretty darn cute to see a tiny person wrapped in the latest hijab trends, but at the same time it’s a bit too much adulting and I don’t know if I’m quite ready.
- You get more excited at Sephora than the Disney Store. You love to watch me do my make up, and pretend to do the same thing. You carefully watch me in the mirror, mimicking the same strokes and dips of the brushes. You will stop anything you’re doing at the sight of make up. Could this mean a career as a MUA? Time will tell.
Even while writing this, and trying to find the pictures to correspond to the post, I am astounded by how much you’ve grown in the last six months. I used to wish I could freeze time when you were a baby, and now I wish for it again.
I’ll miss the way you run to me with concern if you see that I’m hurt, and ask me “Mummy you okay?” in the same manner as I ask you. And the way you freeze when you hear the bell when Baba comes home, leave whatever you’re doing and run to his arms. (He’ll miss that too) I’ll miss the naughty smile you give me when I’m being silly, and the way you kiss Rabab’s forehead. I’ll miss your constant need to know everything. Your never-ending questions and curiosity.
Please don’t be in a rush to reach twenty-five, give me some time to catch up with you. It’s going by way too fast, my dear. Mummy already misses you.