she's wearing her sister's American Girl doll glasses
a Minnie Mouse necklace
the same amber teething necklace she's worn since 4 months old
an apple shirt from Grandma Mimi
and holding very ancient and pixelized candy from the Halloween era that was discovered fossilizing in an abandoned cabinet
her nose makes me want to honk it or kiss it, both
i am completely head over heels in love with this tiny but surprisingly muscley ball of unstoppable energy, curiosity, sass, love and at three years old, devoted to me passionately.
i night weaned her. i told her the day she turned three that she could nurse to sleep, but could not nurse again until the light comes up in the morning.
every morning at the crack of dawn when the first tiny slivers of sun make their way through the darkness of night, she sits up possessed by one and only one desire: GIVE ME SOME NURSIES NOW
somehow i won and lost.
motherhood, in a nutshell.
my non-fiction essay is up in the new edition of Literary Orphans.