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Yellow Farmhouse; White Rocking Chair

By Kayleigh Rahn
Two short years ago I sat in a freshly painted nursery daydreaming about our daughter.

I felt her kick against my hand as it rested on my belly.

I was in love with this perfectly peaceful room in our farmhouse.

Perfectly light gray walls framed by thick white trim work with pink and mint accents.

And wildflowers everywhere – that was the theme we picked early – wildflowers for our future wild child.

We stenciled oversized wild flowers on the wall above her crib, and over her closet door we posted a wooden sign that reads: “In a bed full of roses, she’s a wild flower.”

That’s what I wanted for my daughter, a voice and the courage to make a difference in the world.

You know the quote – “Well behaved women rarely make history.” I had imagined this young lady who had the world within her grasp along with the courage to reach out and grab it firmly by both hands. I sat and prayed and meditated and wished her personality into existence.

However, I never considered what a wildflower becomes as a toddler. I don’t think I understood what it was that I was asking those 24 months ago.

Today we have a nearly 2-year-old wild child with an attitude and a heart of gold.

At this point she speaks non-stop with confidence using words she doesn’t have down quite yet. She runs from room to room throughout the house, still non-stop, as her wild strawberry blond curls bounce with her every step. She has quick hands and a mischievous smile that gives away her next move.

She moves from the piano bench, to her baby dolls, to her Little Tikes golf clubs before I can stand up from her toddler table where she doodles with every color crayon of the rainbow.

There’s no doubt in my mind that we have our wild flower in our sweet Nora Kaye.

This weekend we enjoyed our final lazy Sunday for the foreseeable future, so William and I took the time to soak up her lovely silliness.

Her favorite television show is “Curious George”, which seems only fitting. For those who aren’t familiar, George is a mischievous monkey who lives in the city with his owner/friend The Man in the Yellow Hat. She has a George stuffed animal and will request to watch George over any princess-related entertainment, which is honestly fine by us.

I suppose it’s only fitting that a girl who can scale her highchair quicker than I can grab milk out of the fridge would love a cute monkey.

Yes, and as she slid into her chair a proud smile burst from her face. I missed the climb, but I’m glad I caught that grin.

So Sunday we watched George and pounded on the piano. We galloped through the kitchen before playing catch on the porch.

This kid plays hard but she snuggles hard, and that’s my favorite.

Here’s the thing about wildflowers – these plants that pepper the roadsides throughout Douglas County add beauty to the world despite their surroundings.

I hope one day Miss Nora reads these words and realizes that my wish was never for her to become a spitfire ready to bulldoze her way through life, but to have strength despite the odds. To show beauty when it might have been easier to blend in with others.

Stay wild, my child, but more importantly be kind.

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