Bigger Picture Moment: The Beast

Lauren is playing in Mia's bedroom. 

Except for a pair of fairy-covered panties, and silver, sparkly shoes, she is bare.  It is 6 degrees outside her window; she refuses clothing.  Apparel would only hinder the swish of hair across her shoulders and upper back, which -- obviously -- would prevent her from feeling just how fabulously long her hair has grown.  Never mind that it's short, she reminds me daily of its length, tipping her tiny head back as far as it will go without making her fall backward. 

My hair is long, mama, see?  It's SO long.  See?

She is digging through a box of Barbies, dancing a purple-dressed ballerina with one hand while searching with the other.  As if of its own volition, a Beast doll falls from the box, into Lauren's lap. 

She leaps backward without ever rising to her feet, and is screaming before she reaches the door.  The Beast, you see, is terrifying.  He is a head that fits over the body of a prince doll, with billowing cape and armless hands.  He is Lauren's nightmare, come to life.  In miniature.

Barreling down the hallway, she yells for help.  She tumbles over vocabulary, making up the words necessary to properly convey the depth of her fear.  The beast is gettin me and fallin and izza-izza gawash scary for dashug mama mama he was in the box but but but...

I scoop her up -- my baby.  My 25-pound baby.  She's the one who wraps her entire self around my middle for hugs.  The one who buries her head in my neck.  The one who turns my face to hers for a puckered kiss. 

Now, I wrap my arms around her shaky limbs and promise infinite protection.   Her fists grab greedy gulps of my shirt, and I rub circles on the smooth skin of her back while she catches her breath.

I'm all she needs, and the Beast is easily remedied. 

For now.

It's the Simple Moments that make up the Bigger Picture, and we're sharing our moments today at Alita's place -- please stop by to read more moments and share your own!