little girl. big city.

My heart goes out to little Emmeline as I herd her through this big adventure.  Her short little legs have walked miles and miles.  They’ve learned how to balance on moving trains and busses (even going upstairs on a jostling double decker) get on and off of escalators and elevators and busses and trains.  While she has had some seriously frantic moments and I think her cry is the loudest sound in London, overall she has been quite a trouper.  

Because the double stroller is way to hard to get up and down the tube stations she is mainly on foot, holding onto the stroller for dear life.  And, although she gets fed up far quicker than the older two, she has spent a lot of time happily hopping along with us (she literally hops, it’s so cute).  She “minds the gap” on the tube by doing a little jump and always always always jumps off busses.   She insists on riding the escalators by herself and she is our designated button pusher for a signal to cross the road. 

She has started school knowing no one.  We walk her to school and leave her there, standing bravely, alone watching us walk out to go and do mommy school.  She always has a huge grin when I pick her up. 

Since we’ve been here there have been moments when I’ve felt extremely tender towards her (and other moments where I’ve felt just the opposite, but we won’t go into that now).  It blows my mind to imagine how hard it must be for her 3 year old little brain to process what has just happened to her.  Boston was the only home she ever knew.  She keeps worrying about things we left back in Boston and asking when we’re going to go back to our other home (which now can mean either Boston or our flat in London). 

 These pictures are mostly from different days, but she insists on wearing her “black, twirly” dress nearly every single day. 

On days when she is red checked from yelling and teary eyed over the tiniest little blip I have to remind myself of the total upheaval that has happened in her once predictable life.  Often I don’t have that little reminder till the day is done and I catch a glimpse of her sleeping as I put something away in her room.  It’s always then that I can see my children so clearly, see life from their perspective.  And usually I’m sad that I wasn’t more compassionate and loving to them during the day.  Days just get crazy.

So, I’m trying to see her, really see her while she’s awake too.  I’m hoping if I can see her clearly I can help her navigate these strange waters.  A little girl.  In the middle of a big city.  Smack in the middle of a huge change. 

Brave little thing.