I love Micaiah's sweet heart. She can be having the crummiest day attitude-wise, but the minute she hears someone isn't feeling up to par, she's there to make them feel right.
The other day, as we got home from a day of working in the church library, a task this pregnant body is finding more and more difficult with each passing day, I sat for a moment in the car after pulling into the garage, just to catch my breath. Concerned I wasn't moving to eject her or her brother from their respective seats, Micaiah asked, "Mommy, you alright?"
"Well, the baby is hurting right now" I explained as I rubbed a sore spot on my expanding belly. This explanation, though sad to her, seemed to make sense as she confirmed, "Oh, your tummy hurt?"
Later, after lunch, as I released her from the booster seat, she asked, "Mommy, you okay?"
Feeling just fine, and forgetting our conversation from earlier, I answered, "Yeah, I'm okay; are you okay?"
"Yeah, your penguin not hurting anymore?"
Man, that girl is the greatest.
Then, this evening, as Daddy spent the day away, having valuable guy-time, a second-trimester morning (aka evening) sickness was hitting me. Trying my best to bear through the day when I could barely move off the couch, the kids spent a lot of time in front of the television. At one point, she turned to me, hoping to cuddle with mama - something I would have loved, if the squirminess of a three-year-old wouldn't send me over the edge. Sadly, I had to decline. It took her awhile to understand, which just broke my heart as she asked in as many ways as she could think of. Finally, I started to cry.
"Mommy, are you sad?"
"Yes, baby, because I want to spend time with you, I just can't."
I covered my eyes to compose myself and when I re-opened them, she had vanished. Emmett sat slapping and squawking in my face (thanks for the empathy, buddy), but his sister had disappeared. Seconds later she re-appeared with the blanket from her bed.
"Here you go, Mommy," she said tenderly as she spread the covering over me in an attempt to ease my sorrows.
I will ever be grateful for my little girl.