I have been dabbling in melacholy again. I don't indulge in this very often. But last week, while I was sick, I slipped. I realized, all of a sudden, that my imaginary timeline has a serious flaw.
At nine, Elise was going to be able to talk. Like a typical 4 or 5 year old. And I was going to get to hear some of what was going on in her mind and heart.
It's not going to happen.
Elise will be nine at the end of October. Barring some miraculous miracle, Elise will not move from a 2-3 year old vocabulary to a mature and chatty 5 year old vocabulary.
And so I cried.
Today, I am okay...I will probably end up with a new imaginary magic age, like 12... But I can start waiting again...and that's all I can really do, anyway. But I have regrouped...I can happily celebrate the tiny miracles...
Anybody else ever done something like this? I don't want to be all alone in the crazy today... :)