It doesn't really seem to matter much where I put Genoa to sleep at bedtime, she always ends up in my bed. I would complain about this because the child is SEVEN and should sleep in her own room, but it's just not a battle I'm fighting anymore. Some people don't like to sleep alone! Genoa is one of those people. (You know, it's not like she hasn't been trying to tell me this SINCE SHE WAS BORN or anything!) I know exactly where she's coming from, too. (Which is why I never kick her out of my bed.)
Anyway, a few weeks ago, I woke up with her next to me and started doing my leg lifts and hip openers. I'm supposed to do them every day to keep my knees from going bad, but I usually either forget or I'm running late and don't have time. But it was a lazy Saturday morning and I finally remembered. I'm glad I did, too, because it woke Genoa up and led to one of my proudest parenting moments yet:
GENOA: Whatcha doing?
ME: My stretches. Why don't you do them with me?
GENOA (stretching her dinky little legs toward the ceiling): This is hard!
ME: I know, right!
GENOA (eyes glued to my calves as I touch the balls of my feet to the wall behind my head and straighten my legs out): Wow Mommy! When I grow up, I hope I am as strong as you.
I almost cried.
Not skinny. Not pretty. Not tall. Not blond. Not anything superficial.
It's rare that I'm proud of my parenting, but if I can do one thing right? Let it be this.