Sunday, 25 September 2016


Little One,

Here we are on the first day of autumn, nearing your six month mark. You were my spring equinox, ushering in the greening of my soul and the budding of my limbs. The wind howled and the rain froze, but you and I had our vernal nest, warm with the newness of our shared birth story.

And then we grew into summer, into daisies, and geraniums red as any beating heart. We felt the sand and tasted the strange salty sea, and you were wide-eyed in the sun.

You have grown through these two seasons, and now with the turning of the leaves there is eagerness in your eyes and determination in your grasp. You would gobble the whole world up if you could, but I hold you firm and say, wait, wait, not just yet. The ducklings are not yet ready to fly south, and there is still light for our morning cuddles.

Oh baby girl, still so small, I cannot keep you from everything that is to be. Stay close, stay close - the frost will come, but then we will light the pumpkin lanterns, and I will give you the moon for your plaything.



Friday, 2 September 2016

Things I Cannot Schedule (an incomplete list):

Projectile vomit 
The ideal laundry-on-the-line day
An invasion of slugs
A second cup of coffee
Creating the perfect funnel for a plasticine train
Noticing orange on a caterpillar
Baby kisses
The thought that went down a rabbit trail 
Pillow fights
One more chapter
Last one
Ok, just one more
Cuddling away thunder
A headache
Breathing in the after-storm breeze


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