Helper

My mackerdoodle is getting to phase of wanting to be a helper.  At this stage in my pregnancy, having someone that close to the ground often is a big help.  She gets to feel the joy of helping Mama, and Mama doesn’t have to bend over and squish the cheesedoodle – everyone is happy and comfortable.

She often wants to help me unload the dishwasher – sometimes while I’m loading it with dirty dishes.

She always wants to help me when we’re shopping, which sometimes means she puts apples and potatoes and onions in the green plastic produce bag I’m holding, but also means I sometimes arrive at the checkout with a box of rice-a-roni, or a bag of lentils because they happened to be on a shelf she could reach.

Last week, however, she added another duty to her roster of helping tasks.

On Friday I told her “Just a second.  Mommy will get up and I’ll get it for you.” and I began the process of hoisting my pregnant self out of the armchair in which I sat.  The mackerdoodle grabbed my forearm with both of her arms, clutched it to her chest, and began leaning back, trembling with the effort she was exerting.  It took me a minute to realize what was happening, until I saw the look on her face.

“Are you helping Mama stand up?” I asked.

She nodded breathlessly.  “Help,”  she said.

She has neither the weight nor the strength to actually assist me to stand, but the sight of the hopefulness on her face, and feeling of her clutching at my arm, gave me the incentive to push my bulk into the air and stand.  She beamed proudly, and patted my leg.

“Help” she said, and then she trotted away.

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About Coralie

After 11 years of infertility, I am now a mother to three, a wife of a Presbyterian (ARP) preacher and a struggling homemaker. Welcome to my little corner of the net. Kick off your shoes, put your feet up and join the conversation. View all posts by Coralie

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