Noa, My Daughter

Clap, Clap, Clap, Clap. Her little feet stomp in a high-pitched tones and echo making her feel monstrous. We are not in a rush, so we let her walk alongside us like a big girl. Just past 1 years-old, she has grown too tall for the dress I put on her, but I had wanted to see her wear it for one last day before packing it away with all the other hand-me-downs. Her spindly, white legs stick out of the pink dress like a flamingo’s and it still amazes me that she is real, that she is my daughter. The dress is too short and barely covers her little diaper. When she is a teenager, we will fight about dresses this short. In my worst nightmare, the worst version of our future battles together, I picture her sprinting up the stairs, while I pathetically try to catch up. We are both flushed as she slams her bedroom door in my face and screams, “I HATE YOU!”

Noa looks up at me holding her daddy’s pointer finger and smiles, as if to say, “Look what I’m doing mommy. I can keep up with daddy. I’m on the move.” The sun lights up her face and the wind blows wisps of blond hair back, as she giggles. Mostly she is graceful, but every once in a while she holds on tight to Nathan’s finger and sways like a drunken sailor, trying to prevent a forward crash onto the newly paved sidewalk.
I am both proud and jealous of Noa. Her body is still perfectly formed. There are no torn ligaments in her knees or extra weight on her frame. If she develops a body like her dad’s side of the family she will be tall and thin. I watch her move and dream of her unlimited future; I picture her as a runner, developing a strong powerful body, perhaps even winning a scholarship to college.
I want her to push. I want her to continue to move, to be fast and to get stronger. I want her to be tough enough to protect herself against all the dangerous people who are waiting to take advantage and, at the same time, remain an innocent little girl, sweet and unburdened by worry or pain. I want… I want… I want… I can drown in my wants, so instead I take a deep breath, let go of our future, and follow little white shoes as they clomp down the sidewalk.