My Little girl's Baptism

I'm happy with how today's activities worked out. This is saying something, especially since right now my usual mental state is to complain about everything. Well, I guess that's not very different in itself, but I'll try this again: "Today was good".
I appreciate the people that were at Riley's Baptism. If there's one thing that I do realize, it's that my family, (mine and Jeff's, whom are both considered mine), is truly supportive and go above and beyond. When it comes to my children, especially, it means so much to me. I know my invitation was a bit deprecating of the true event, but I did want everyone to know that I personally understand how hard it is to get myself ready at that time in the A.M....and when you throw some kids into the mix, a morning like that can set the mood for an entire week--and usually it's not overly-positive. I am confused as to why Kassie and Kelli thought it wasn't important enough to show up...oh well. I'll try to get over it. I have already told Riley that it wasn't her, and not to take it personally.
(I'm also totally kidding. Kelli, I got your message, and relayed it to Riley. Sometimes I'm so delighted with the hilariousness that is me...I can't really apologize for being evil. It's fun, and it's genetics).
Anyway, before I get into a long-winded something or other, because I am really comfortable right here, right now typing, and I can feel it coming on, I want to say how proud I am of my husband. As many of you know, Jeff is a quiet guy. Not only quiet, but so painfully shy it's sometimes hard for him to make eye-contact. Though he's really grown in the past few years socially, I know that it's still an effort for him, each and everyday, to do things that I take for granted, like talking and joking and just B.S.ing. Baptizing his daughter, though scary for him, was something that he completely put all of his insecurities aside to do. Most days I forget that something like this would be so difficult for him, because with us, he's my husband, and he's Riley and Cole's dad. And he gives us all of his love and attention freely, with no reservations. However,when he gets around others that he isn't as comfortable with, I'm reminded how hard it is for him to not just shut down and disappear. For the record, as usual, he went above and beyond my expectations. Time and time again he has proven to me that there is nothing he wouldn't do for us, and again, I wonder at how I lucked out. Because as you all know, everything is always about me.
I feel like I need to explain myself a bit, as far as my relationship with my daughter goes. It's complicated. Of course, I love her. I am amazed by her intelligence, her inner and outer beauty, her kindness, and her sensitivity. That being said, I screw up with her often. She's not a baby anymore, and though completely unfair to her, stopped being my literal baby when Cole was born. She was only three. And at that time, she looked so big to me in comparison to the new baby in my arms. She was my helper; got me diapers, ran upstairs for Cole's clean clothes, got me wash cloths for when Cole puked, and watched him while I had precious seconds of alone time on the toilet. She had to be the big kid and she was so little. I look at Cole and his humongous head and his little lisp, and how he's so tall for his age. But he's still my baby. He'll most likely be until this new one comes along. And as I think about this, I'm torn again, because I realized how badly I feel about Riley missing out. She was a victim of timing; having to move to second place so much earlier than Cole does. I hate putting it like that, but when a new baby comes, they are so much more demanding, and the older kids soon learn that they don't have the luxury of acting like that anymore. Riley's always been so sweet, and she let Cole's arrival and the changes it brought happen. She encouraged it, even, because she immediately loved Cole as much as we all do. I remember when he was born, he had some problems with a little fluid in his lungs, and he wasn't breathing and eating the way he should. The nurse came in and told me that they were going to take him for some tests, and Riley, sensing my worry and confusion, went right up to the nurse and said, "That's our baby. He needs to stay with us". The nurse smiled at her and went around her, not really understanding her three year old speak, and Riley, knowing that the nurse didn't get it, started shouting, "That's our baby! Mom, they're taking our baby"! It was a bit odd to see, because when she first came into the hospital to see me, she wasn't really excited about Cole, she kind of saw that this was a new threat to her place in our home, and was a bit sullen about it. But her protective instincts kicked in quickly, especially when she saw how much her new brother meant to her mom and dad. She's always been an astute kid. She sees me for who I am, and she can read how I'm feeling. And sometimes, this isn't a positive thing for her, yet she continues to love me, and tell me that she couldn't have ever had a better mom. (Though I know this to be untrue...as there isn't anyone that would love her as fiercely as I, I'm sure there are some that could be "better" at the mothering job. But hearing her say it, makes me want to believe that maybe some days, I'm doing something not totally wrong).
With Riley I've made some terrible calls and went about some situations so wrong, it embarrasses and shames me to think about it. Today, after everyone left our little breakfast, Jeff and I were joking around. I had said something to Riley about her picking her stuff up and maybe I should just do my regular: start yelling about it. Jeff called me on the yelling comment, and Riley was there so I said, "Because my routine is to yell at her morning, noon, and night, don't you realize that?" Riley cut in, all serious, "Just in the mornings, I don't know anything about the other times". Jeff and I laughed, because we were surprised that she had been following our conversation. However, I was also touched that even though I do yell,(and not just in the mornings, I'm afraid), she was protecting me. I get after her before school because she is a classic doddler. And true, I don't always handle it like a sweet, even-tempered mother would. And she forgives me...even tries to understand why I blow things way out of proportion like that. My daughter is a force that I never saw coming. She is so like me physically, but emotionally, she's ten times the person I am. She's strong and she isn't bitter and negative like I am. I'm grateful for this, and I'm learning from her example.
So today I am feeling the afterglow of being able to be the mother of a child that I know is going to do amazing things. I have no doubt that she will change lives...because I'm already an example of that. The love that I have for my daughter and the person I know she is makes me physically lighter, and makes the world a better place. Yes, we do have our differences. And more unfortunately, yes, her mother is 64% of the time a mental case that is selfish and stubborn. I will say, though, that I would do anything for my daughter. I truly try each day to be better for her, and sometimes there is progress, and sometimes there is a severe backslide. Either way, miraculously, she loves me, and for some reason, thinks I'm a great mom. I'm a blessed woman. I'm so proud of my daughter for being who she is for her, and for me. Hopefully, I will become a better person just from her example. I would list a million more circumstances where she's completely shown me up, but I've still got my pride, and I like to have some secrets. (Especially ones where my flaws outweigh any good aspects I may have at any given day).
And this was a good day. It truly was.