She runs down the long hallway upstairs to me. I am stationed at one end, placed there by her outstretched hand and firm, “Mama, no” when I started to run with her. Instead I have the wonderful role of finish line greeter. Her chubby legs pump up and down, her knees turning in toward each other. Her face is alight with the joy of movement, mouth open in a smile that makes me feel a little weak with love. Then, the best part–she launches herself into my arms and wraps me in a hug, then turns to run the other way again.
She is wild and precious, this one. Recently my mom needed to take the kids with her for a quick doctor’s appointment. They were very patient and well-behaved and the doctor commented on what a good job they were doing. Then he grinned and said, “You’ll get some mileage out of that one. She has the same twinkle in her eye that my daughter did.” That spirit will serve her well in life. I love you, Anna Catherine.
