Rusty Buckets and Bedtime Snuggles

When Grace was 5 and her dad and I were separating, it felt like her bucket had holes in it. Big, giant, gaping holes. And no matter how much love and attention I poured into that bucket, those holes would let all that goodness run out in a pool around her feet. I imagined her looking at her empty bucket and then looking up at me with pleading eyes that begged for more. And I tried; more love, more attention, more hope, more encouragement - but those holes... those god forsaken holes.

Well, I think Ellamae found that old rusty bucket. She doesn't have that deep sadness or rage, instead, an insatiable thirst for my time and affection. A constant need for reassurance of my love for her. Mom, can we snuggle? When you're done with that do you want to sit on the couch with me? She's the one who thinks the bathroom door is more of a suggestion than an actual request for privacy. The one who will sneak into my bedroom 600 times between the hours of 7 and 9 on a Saturday morning waiting for the slightest hint of a stirring. And when I do get out of bed all glassy-eyed trying to figure out what day it is - we hit the ground running. Mom, will you watch TV with me? Mom, do you want to play cards?

And she is funny, and silly, and so lovable. I do love our time together, but sometimes it is draining. I can't fill up my own bucket fast enough to keep hers full - not even half full. She just can't get enough. And it doesn't stop - it's literally sun up to sun down. Mom, are you coming to bed? Mom, are you coming? I'll wait here on the stairs while you turn off the lights and lock the doors and then I'll walk up the stairs with you so I'm right under your feet. I'll brush my teeth with lightning speed and wait in bed for you so we can snuggle - for the hundredth time. She'll lay her head on my lap and I'll rub her back until she falls asleep with one arm holding me close. Like she wants to make sure I won't disappear while she's sleeping, that I'll still be right here, right next to her when she wakes.

I get it, I really do. Even though it's been 4 years since her dad and I divorced, she's still working it out in that 7 year old brain and heart. It's a lot to ask of a little girl. Sometimes, it feels like she's experiencing it for the first time. She was so little when we separated and now, she's finally old enough to start processing it. And all of those questions and all of that grief takes a lot of time and love to heal. I get it.

The other day I was sitting on the couch trying to unwind while unsuccessfully attempting to shove my 65 lb lab over so that Ellamae would have more than 6 inches to smash herself between me and the armrest which only resulted in an undeterred Ellamae half squeezed in and half sitting on top of me - while the whole rest of the couch sat empty. Deep breath. I loved Grace through this stage, so I know, this too shall pass.

Grace is just weeks away from turning 16. I look at her now and she takes my breath away. She is strong and brave and confident. She is opinionated and she's not afraid to speak and defend what she believes. She's amazing. She doesn't look at me with those eyes brimming with tears asking for more, instead, I look into her eyes and they sparkle. More often than not, just watching her navigate this world makes my own bucket overflow. My bucket runneth over.

Grace's bucket never had holes. She just had a bigger bucket than the others. But not one single drop of the love that was poured into her was lost. Not one single drop spilled out, not one drop was wasted. She was gathering it all up and using it to fill the holes in her heart, to answer the questions that could not be answered and to nurture the young woman she would become. And now, her bucket runneth over.

Ellamae's bucket is sized just right for her big, loving heart. And it'll take a while to fill. A lot of snuggles on the couch watching Big City Greens and The Amazing World of Gumball. Lots of nights when she'll still crawl into bed with me and sleep parallel to the headboard taking up a disproportionate amount of space for a 50 lb kid in a king sized bed. Lots of Mom and Ellamae time carved into a day already filled with laundry to be done, dinner to be cooked, kids to be chauffeured and a million other chores that are always waiting in the wings.

But as I look into that big ol' bucket of hers, I know that it'll be worth it.

It already is.

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