Today I unbuckled her chair, cleaned it all up and sanitized it to pass on to a dear friend for her grandchildren. Saddened by this, not over the fact of giving, but over the fact of the memories that occurred while she was in that chair, and how this chair will no longer be in our home.
This chair was where her first bite of cereal came to be, this is where I witnessed her love for the taste of food for the first time. This chair was the chair that helped the transition from breast milk to actual food. I watched her clap in amazement at the taste of the sugary sweetness of applesauce, and her loathe her first taste of peas which covered my eyelids as she chose to spit them back out at me. This chair was the chair that she sat in while we had our family breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. The memories of her anger over food that was not prepared to her liking. One by one she would pluck those bite size pieces, bit by bit, and drop each carefully cut up piece one by one onto the floor, but did so in a way with such cheekiness, we all could not help but giggle until we all had tears streaming down our faces. Oh, the fond memories she gave us all while she sat in that chair.
This is another transition, a sign, that she is gaining her independence and getting bigger. As I carefully, and lovingly soaped the chair down and remembered, I could only hope that Judy's grandchildren would give her the same fond memories that I have of my daughter Taiga, while she sat in that chair.
Taiga-Boo-Boo, may you offer us all many more of your sweet memories as you sit at the table in your regular big person chair.
I love you to the moon and back!
Today I unbuckled her chair, cleaned it all up and sanitized it to pass on to a dear friend for her grandchildren. Saddened by this, not over the fact of giving, but over the fact of the memories that occurred while she was in that chair, and how this chair will no longer be in our home.
This chair was where her first bite of cereal came to be, this is where I witnessed her love for the taste of food for the first time. This chair was the chair that helped the transition from breast milk to actual food. I watched her clap in amazement at the taste of the sugary sweetness of applesauce, and her loathe her first taste of peas which covered my eyelids as she chose to spit them back out at me. This chair was the chair that she sat in while we had our family breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. The memories of her anger over food that was not prepared to her liking. One by one she would pluck those bite size pieces, bit by bit, and drop each carefully cut up piece one by one onto the floor, but did so in a way with such cheekiness, we all could not help but giggle until we all had tears streaming down our faces. Oh, the fond memories she gave us all while she sat in that chair.
This is another transition, a sign, that she is gaining her independence and getting bigger. As I carefully, and lovingly soaped the chair down and remembered, I could only hope that Judy's grandchildren would give her the same fond memories that I have of my daughter Taiga, while she sat in that chair.
Taiga-Boo-Boo, may you offer us all many more of your sweet memories as you sit at the table in your regular big person chair.
I love you to the moon and back!