When she’s tired, when she’s sad, when she simply needs time out, she knows I’ll always be there for her – whether she needs hugs, or her own space. I can give her either. But more often that not, it’s just space she needs, and time to herself. A few moments out to find comfort from her best friend – her thumb. It’s always there for her, and very close at hand (so to speak 
). And as much as I dread the thought of having an eight, nine, ten year old that still sucks her thumb, I’m reluctant to wean her off it. I guess she’ll do it in her own time. And in the meantime it’s my comfort too. It means she’s still just a little girl. A baby. My baby. Maybe neither of us are ready to give it up just yet.
