by Tina Moore
Just over an hour has past when I hear you through the baby monitor. You’re playing with bunny and calling out to me. I have long folded our washing and put away my dishes, but I don’t go into your room straight away. I listen to you to giggle as you talk to yourself.
“I know you are there, Mommy. I know you can hear me,” you giggle sweetly. I get up and walk to your room, opening your door and see you throw your blankie up like a parachute. I take you out and set you up in the living room with your sandwich as I finish my show. It scares you, and you hide behind your blankie during the scary parts. I let you sit up on the couch with me, and I wrap my loving arm around you and let you lay on my lap.
“Why do you watch such scary things, Mommy?” You ask before quickly hiding under your blankie. I lift the corner of it and hide under it to making you laugh.
“Because Mommy doesn’t find it scary,” I reply tickling you. The show ends, and I take your sandwich container and put it in the dishwasher.
“What shall we do now, baby?” I ask. The house is in its usual perfect state. You are all relaxed and happy, and I have had a lovely morning doing almost nothing.
“We could go to the park?” You say clapping your hands. You love kicking the football around in the park, but I don’t feel like doing so much sport. You have so much energy, and I was seriously thinking of just sending you out on a run by yourself.
“What about we go to the mall and try on pretty dresses?” I suggest. You think about it, and I see your cheeky little mind thinking of a plan as your eyes light up.
“Can we buy frozen yogurt too? It’s healthy.” I look at you and laugh.
“In what universe is frozen yogurt healthy?” You look down at your toes, and I can tell you’re trying to think of a rebuttal.
“Let’s go and if you are a good girl for Mommy then maybe we can get frozen yogurt,” I say deciding that I wasn’t interested in your cheeky remark. I help you up, and you come to my room to get dressed in your big girl clothes. Sometimes I don’t know why I bother changing you out of your clothes; even when we go out together, you look like my little girl. You sound and look bigger, but you’re still Mommy’s little one. It has everything to do with the fact that I look like the elegant, wealthy woman I am and you look like a little urchin I’ve picked up off the street. With your skinny black jeans and tight shirts, your particularly cool sneakers and general urban grunge vibe people commonly assume you’re my little girl going through her rebellious phase. The diamond bracelet I claimed you with is the only indicator that you belong to me. But that’s how I like it. I never wanted you to become a mini version of me; it’s far more exciting having people to view me as your Mommy, which to every other degree bar biological, I am.
I take your diaper off, and you run to the bathroom. Cheeky girl, you still get nervous about wetting your diaper and only do when you are desperate. I make a mental note to get you to that desperation tomorrow as I lay out your underwear and give you a choice between two pairs of sneakers. You come back, and I give you a look which reads, you got away with that but you won’t tomorrow, and you giggle and come up to kiss me. I run my hands up and down your back and hold your naked body close to mine. I love feeling your grown up body, you’re as soft as ever, but you’re more open to me, and I love that. You get dressed, and I pat your bottom and squeeze it gently as I take out your jacket. It’s just starting to get cold, and the last thing I want is for you to get sick. You put it on, and I take your hand. We go to the car, and I give you your phone as I drive us to the mall. You get your phone for a couple of hours each day on the weekend and while you’re at work during the week and you press around madly catching up on the news you’ve missed over the evening. I turn the radio on, and you hum along to a song while you text people and tell me about the funny things your friends have said or done on social media.
We arrive at the store, and I hold out my hand expectantly. You give me your phone, and I put it in my handbag, and we get out. I let you get out by yourself today by nodding to the door. I like that you waited to see what mood I was in. You get out, and you quickly make it to my side as I walk us into the store, your little hand in mine. I love that you grip my hand tightly or loosely depending on who we pass. When we pass someone you find scary you grip it tight, and when we pass them, you relax again. We run into someone I met at the last party we went to, and you grip my hand. I look at you, and you say nothing but look back at me with you big pretty wide eyes. I make a note of your fear, but we have already seen them, and they are walking our way. I let your hand go and let you wander off on your own while I talk. I don’t want you to have to stand near someone you don’t like. I know the sassy mouth you have when someone pushes you too hard, and I don’t want either of us to have to be in that position. I finish talking and come to find you, but I don’t have to look far, you run up behind me, take my hand, and smile up at me.
“What was that about baby?” I ask.
“I don’t like how they play it’s rough,” you reply. I tilt my head in agreement, and we walk to find you a new dress. You look for the bodycon section first, and I laugh as you dramatically hold up two options: a red one and a black one. I hold up an emerald-green one, and you take it from my hands and put it back on the rack.
“That one is gross Mommy,” you say. I raise my eyebrow and look at your selection up and down.
“And these look like you’re going to work,” I say taking them out of your hands. We finally agree on a navy blue dress with a plunging neckline and a hem that stops mid thigh, and I go to pay. Taking your hand and gripping it firmly as we pass the frozen yogurt shop, you try to suppress your disappointment as I buckle you in the car.
“Good job on trying not to be a pouty baby little girl.” You kiss my cheek and a rub your thighs before going to the driver’s side and pulling out of the parking lot. I can feel you burning with sadness you don’t have any yogurt, but I’m happy you haven’t brought it up.
“I did say maybe little one,” I say lovingly to you. You just nod, I know you’re sad, but you won’t be for long. Tonight I’m taking you to your favorite Mexican restaurant and as we pull up you almost give yourself whiplash looking at me.
“Really?” You ask. I smile, and nod and you giggle and clap your hands excitedly.
“You wouldn’t have gotten it if you’d complained about the yogurt.” You look at me and laugh.
“Stuff the yogurt; this is way better!” You jump out of the car, and I lean forward to grab your hand and pull you back to me as you race for the door. I look at you, and you check yourself and calmly walk beside me. I don’t bother asking you want or taking a menu and order straight away. I know what you want, and I order double so that I can take it home, and that’ll be lunch sorted for tomorrow. We eat our meal, and you take extra long telling me you’re trying to savor the taste. I threaten to start eating your food if you don’t hurry up and when you are finally finished, I go to pay. I can see your eyes flutter shut on the way home. The rocking of the car and soft music is playing like a lullaby for my pretty baby. I open the door and take you inside, snapping my fingers to the bathroom.
“Bath and bed, little lady.” You go obediently to the bathroom, and I hear you start to take off your clothes.
“Cute little tummy. Are you all full baby? Did Mommy treat you extra special today?” You nod, and I help you into the bath. You play in the warm water as I bathe you, getting you nice and clean and ready for bed. The bath salts that I put in relax you and I hold you in my arms as I dry you. You are almost asleep as I take you into the nursery. You’ll sleep here tonight. I put you straight into your cot and pull out an extra thick diaper. You try to push it away, but I take both your wrists in my hand and powder you nicely. You always get fussy when you’re over sleepy, and you are wriggling around your cot like a little critter.
“Stay still for Mommy baby, so I can get you ready for bed. Don’t fight Mommy.” You stop for long enough for me to pull a fuzzy diaper cover ov
er your bottom and tuck you into your cot. You’ve got your stuffies around you, and you roll around grumpy you’re not asleep already. I smile down at you.
“Shh, now baby girl. It’s alright; Mommy is here.” I kiss you and turn off your light, coming back to rub your back as you fall asleep. I’m sitting in the rocking chair, and you hold one of my fingers as my other hand pats you making you calm and happy as you fall asleep. I wait until your little fist goes limb around my finger and quietly stand up, shutting the door behind me, and within minutes, I can hear the slow breathing of my good little girl fast asleep.
Monday
Mondays are always hard after spending the weekend with you. It’s like we have been in our beautiful little bubble and Monday always comes and bursts it. I know it makes you sad when we have to go back to work. I try to make the week nice for you, but we both know you need to be a grown-up sometimes.
I look over to the nightstand and see the clock. 6:58 am. It’ll sound the alarm soon and the work week will start. You stir and wake up to find me looking down on you. I love looking into your sleepy eyes. You blink trying to wake yourself up, and I pull you close to me as the alarm goes off. I hear your groan vibrate on my breast and you try to hold onto me as I pull you off my body.
“Come on, baby; it’s not so bad.” I pull the bed sheets off us and hop out of bed, leaving you there to get yourself out. I look over my shoulder to you as I go to my shoe cupboard and take out the pink pumps I’ll be wearing today. I see you’re still in bed and I have to suppress a smile as I sternly hint that you need to be out of that bed very quickly. I go to the shower as you begin to take your clothes off. I let you dress on Mondays because after the weekend it’s always hard for you to be a big girl again. I feel you coming into the shower as you wrap your arms around my waist and hold me tight. I kiss you tenderly and pass you the shower gel.
“I can’t be late today sweetie.” I can’t begin to count the times I’ve been late because you distract me with your beauty or the cute things you do. You nod and begin showering as I step out and make a beeline to my cupboard. I have a business meeting today and have already prepared my outfit: a fitted navy suit, white silk blouse, and bright pink pumps. I’m dressed and in the kitchen before you are out of the shower. I hear the water is turned off as I made you toast and put on some cartoons for you. When you come out into the kitchen, you’re wearing your uniform. You’ve worked in the same company for years, but you still can’t get your tie done right, and I feel you up playfully before I get to your tie making you giggle and squirm. You sit down and butter your toast as you watch your cartoons, and I make myself an espresso.
“Time to go darling. Go clean your teeth and meet me in the car.” You put your plate in the dishwasher and head to the bathroom. I put a sticky note saying how much I love you onto your lunch and take both our bags to the car. The mornings are so rushed; I hate that I can’t keep you as my sweet girl any longer. You jump in the car, and I hand you your phone and smile as you put it straight in your bag and reach for my hand.
“Does someone miss Mommy already baby girl?” You lean over and cuddle my arm as you tell me about what you think your day will be like. I pull up at your train station and kiss you goodbye, watching as you run to catch the train you’ve almost missed. I pull away and notice you’ve left something on your seat. My stomach tightens for a moment thinking you’ve left something behind, but as I look closer, I see that you weren’t the only one to get a note today. It’s the picture you drew last night. You were so proud of it as you showed me. You have started doing collages for Mommy, and this one was a jungle theme. You had taken so much care in cutting out the green paper to make vines and grasses, and you used the stencils I bought you to make the animals. You even cut out some blue paper to make the watering hole you glued all the animals around. You make Mommy’s heart skip a beat as I read the very grown-up poem you have written in pink gel pen on the back about how much you love me. I smile and fold it up, placing it carefully in my bag before leaving the train station and heading off to work.
During the day you send me photos of the different things you do. You always know how to make a boring work meeting exciting. I look at the most recent photo you’ve sent me. Your boss has told you to clean the back office, and you’re there with your work friends posing in ridiculous poses rather than working. I laugh out loud and am grateful that other people are talking too loudly to notice. I love how naughty you are for everyone else except for me. I check my clock and see that in less than 2 hours, you’ll be back by my side in the car going home and I can hardly wait.
I close a deal I’ve been working on for a month and decide to pick up something to celebrate. I go to the jewelry store and try on a diamond necklace. Some may say that it’s an extravagant gift, but I am certainly worth it. I buy you some diamond studs and leave the store in time to pick you up from the train station.
As I pull up, I see you’re waiting there with another person. I pause I don’t want you to have to explain me to someone new or someone who you are unsure of how they will take it. But you wave, and I smile, and you call me over. It makes me laugh to myself that now it is me who is following your request, but as far as relationships go, I do enjoy giving while I take.
“This is Amy. Amy, this is my Mommy.” I almost drop dead as you call me that in front of this very lovely looking stranger. I’ve missed part of the conversation where you two have shared your life stories.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ma’am. Oh, that’s my Daddy, I have to go. Bye,” Amy replies.
I raise an eyebrow at you, and you begin telling me how you two met at a party we went to a while back. I think it’s so cute how easily you make friends and you talk about Amy the whole ride home. I think about how she called me Ma’am, that hasn’t happened in a long time, and I make a mental note to go to someplace fancy and new to hear it again. I liked it.
I take you inside, and you collapse on the couch dramatically. I go over to you, take your hand and pull you up. I turn you around and push you towards the shower.
“Bath. Now,” I say as you flop your head back and shuffle to the bathroom.
It doesn’t take you long to regress into the baby girl of my dreams, and you happily splash around in the bathtub as you play with your toys. I leave you to continue to try and drown your toy duck and head back into the kitchen to start preparing dinner. By prepare, I mean to take out the food my assistant had made and delivered for us and heat it. I place yours on your special plate and put the earring box next to it. I take out my necklace and place it around my neck once more. This time, I won’t have to take it off. I love the weight of the diamond strand. The beautifully cut flower design is resting elegantly against my skin. I go back into the bathroom, and you notice immediately.
“Mommy!” You exclaim in your pretty little voice. You clap your hands, you know I’ve wanted this deal closed. I take you out and dry you off, laying you down and diapering you. You fuss, and I gently slap your thighs, making you stop.
“I want you to be good for me tonight, and I won’t put up with any of your nonsense.” You look so sweet as I dress you in a fluffy white, legless onesie and I roll up pink thigh high socks on your little feeties. You reach for me, and I give you a big cuddle as I lift you and take you to the kitchen for dinner.
“Mommy are these for me!” You exclaim seeing the pretty blue box. I nod and pour myself a wine and watch as you open your gift. You love them like I knew you would and I come around to help you put them in.
“Very pretty, my baby.” I sit down next to you and cut up your food. You don’t like dinner tonight, and you refuse to eat until I begin to feed you. I had my assistant organize something healthy and vegan, and my baby doesn’t like to eat her vegetables at all. It doesn’t bother me to feed you though so I scoop up a big mouthful and push it into your mouth. You’ve learned better than to refuse me, and I’m happy you don’t fight me in eating all your dinner. You pull a face after each mouthful
and look so sad as I keep making you eat the ridiculously expensive, completely delicious food. Happy when you’ve only got one mouthful left I stop and get more for you, almost bring you to tears.
“I’m full, Mommy,” you desperately try to tell me. I know you’re lying. I keep you hungry in the afternoon for a reason, it’s the only way to get you to eat your dinner, and I know you need more. I go to the freezer and put two scoops of ice cream in your bowl and bring it back to the table. I feed you a mouthful of healthy goodness then a mouthful of your dessert until you are finished.
“I’m so good to you baby, do you know that? Do you know that Mommy is the nicest Mommy in the world?” I ask you who right now probably doesn’t think I’m the nicest in the world. You nod your head, and I can tell you’ve had enough to eat by the sleepiness in your pretty eyes and I let you go to the couch and lay down. I clean the plates away and pour myself another glass of wine before I join you. I turn on a show and lazily play with your hair as you drift in and out of sleep. You eventually roll off the couch and head over to your toys. Your little nap has revived you, my darling girl. You play as I shower and put on my pajamas and I come out and sit on the floor with you making you giggle.