On Saturday morning, David and Brendan went in search of a meat grinder (whole other story). So Ellie and I were free to spend the morning together. We packed up the wagon with some necessary supplies, headed down to the neighborhood Starbucks to pick up some provisions (a vanilla milk box and a donut), and then we spent the morning together at Wicker Park.
Ellie brought her sketch book and colored pencils and did some drawings. After awhile, she got up and asked me, "Will you push me on the swing for as long as I want? Not just for a minute but until I have had all of the swinging that I want." I almost started crying.
And since then I can't stop wondering how her life would be different if she were my only child.
She makes a good point. When she asks to be pushed on a swing, I oblige her for a moment -- but then inevitably have to run off because Brendan is waiting to be pushed in a swing or he has gotten himself into some precarious situation that requires adult intervention.
And if she thinks that she has to wait for a decent push now, wait until the spring when I have a new babe in a sling and Brendan is still getting himself is precarious situations that require my constant attention.
How is a girl supposed to get a decent push from a distracted Mama like me?
As much as I like to think that she is better off having her brothers in her life, I also must admit that as a consequence, she gets less and less of me. The mornings when I can take her to the park and give her 100 percent of my attention are few and far between. And I think that there is something a little bit sad about that.