also

quinn took her first swim yesterday, and it looked like this (!).

a morning at special park

i'm not sure if it was the blanket of white petals covering the ground, 

or the elaborate story will and i have built around his precious petal soup, 

or the fact that these outings, in this park, in this neighborhood, in this world, 

are suddenly numbered, suddenly poignant, 

but this morning was pure magic.

quinn gazed at the branches overhead while will and i gathered petals 

to mix with our rocks and wood chips and blades of grass.   

on the way home we stopped at mr. ray's animals to give them a taste of our concoction.  

will fed the deer and the squirrel sips of his water when they were finished, 

and we laid dandelions at their feet, 

a small offering to the gods of childhood and innocence and all things good, 

to those kitschy little statues we've come to love. 

a breeze blew every now and then and swept the petals around us up in to the air, 

where they stayed for a moment, suspended, before floating gently back to earth.  

a daddy post

because he's the best.

dear quinn

my little angel girl, that's you.  in the swirl of diapers and showings and tantrums and tears and smiles that the last three months have been, i haven't had a proper chance to write to you, my little girl.  to tell you just how much i love you, how much i'll always love you.

you came into this world lightening fast, ready and eager to be a part of it.  the moment you were born they placed you on my chest, where you stayed for a long, long time.  you nursed right away; you somehow knew just what to do, and we fell into our rhythm as mother and daughter with ease.  you fell into our family with ease, in fact, as though you were always one of us.  our quinnie boo.  our girl.

i think, little one, that you are what we call an old soul.  you seem to possess the wisdom of someone who's been here before, someone who knows that despite life's challenges, everything is okay, everything is good.  i can tell in your steady gaze and your bright, generous smile, that you're someone who will give second chances, someone who will laugh at mistakes, someone who will dance in the rain.  and maybe, through you, i'll learn to forgive more, and laugh more, and dance more.  maybe i already am.  there's a calmness to you, an innate contentment, that brings me a kind of peace i've never felt.  you give me hope, baby girl.  you inspire me.

for the rest of my life, i will devote myself to not letting you down.  to holding your hand as you grow into your place into this beautiful, broken world of ours.  i will be forever grateful to have the chance to know you, to be with you, to have you as my daughter.  you make my heart whole, little one.  thank you.

love always,
mommy

city kid