holding her parents’ hands and walking down to the beach they promised she’d see, my brother told her that the last time they had come she had been in her mommy’s tummy. “i wasn’t a baby yet?!” makenna asked incredulously. four years later, and another baby on the way, my house was invaded with ponies. and giggles. and pink.
when she realized all of her toys were down the scary stairs she quickly overcame her fear of them. i would catch her talking with the ponies, or singing in her car seat. i had to tread carefully. if she knew i was listening, she’d stop. so i eavesdropped hungrily. taking in all of her little everythings.
at lunchtime she was a master negotiator. reasoning with her mom that she had already taken five big bites.
after bathtime she was a reader. upstairs we’d go to pick from all of my kids’ books. cuddling up to me we read together. she got a kick out of one book in particular. mostly because i made the finger puppet bunny talk to her. he’d ask her to turn the pages. this little book snuck in her carry on to take the plane ride home with her.
in the morning, crazy haired, she came downstairs with her blanky and told me she was hungry.
riding the monorail to the market she played eye-spy. without fail, pink was always her jacket. the market was so much more fun with her. making faces at the fish and gum wall. creeped out by the weird performers. and making a mad dash for the princess booth. her tiny hands touching the pinks, blues and purples. once her purchase was complete she clutched that little bag, not letting it out of her sight.
i fulfilled her request to see hotel transylvania where i think chelsey and i laughed much harder than her. (mak didn’t really like when drac would get mad.) we painted pumpkins when we got home and learned that christian had fallen in a lake while golfing.
despite the soppy conditions the next day, the farm was a big hit. mak pumped the water pump, played in the corn box, catapulted apples and ate powdered doughnuts.
makenna kept doing her little booty dance the entire visit. when i asked her about a dance party – she pointed to the record player. after dancing to billy jean we gave all of our kid records a swirl. most of them we’ve purchased at yard sales and record stores from the sales bins – children’s folk songs, raffi, sesame street. we even have a few fairy tale recordings. we danced and listened the night away.
when it was time for them to leave i squeezed her tight and told baby mak how much i loved her. she reminded me that she is not a baby. it was hard to drive home without her little voice singing in the back seat.