Macy was born in December, and so when school started that next fall, she was about 9 months old. We had had a wonderful summer, just the two of us hanging out, no little sister to fight with constantly. I hated having to go back to school that fall, but knew I had to.
Imagine my surprise one morning when I pulled out of the driveway, looked over at the house, and there was little 9-month-old Macy standing in her crib, in her warm footie pajamas, peeking her head out her blinds to wave at me. My heart melted. It became a ritual for a month or so--I'd get in the car, back out of the driveway, and look up at her and wave. She'd be there, with a huge smile, waving back at me.
Then, just like that, she stopped. Too tired to wake up that early, I guess.
Imagine my surprise when last week, I backed out of the driveway and looked up at the house. There was 5-year-old Kaylin, hair sticking out wildly from her head, perched on the end of her bed waving at me. I smiled, remembering the time her older sister did that, and waved back. She hasn't done it every day since then, but several days since then she's been there waving.
That is the best part of my day when she does.
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