Oh, little girl
She of the bright blue eyes and the crooked smile
She of the belly laughs and the wrenching sobs
She of the kick-kick-kicking legs and the bah-bah-bahs
She of the whatever you call the wrist version of cankles
She who has more than thirty size 1 summer dresses (not.even.kidding.)
She who has our hearts
It has been our roughest week yet. Several days in a row of high temps meant that our cruisey little lady was decidedly less so than usual. Teeth? Virus? Who knows. But thankfully, it appears to have passed.
I hated seeing her unwell. For the first time really, she was not herself. And though I now understand the function of a fever much better than I did when Luca was a babe (and tend to panic a little less), until that fever passes, a mother's heart beats just a little faster.
I took just one photo yesterday. In the dark of her nursery, as she napped, I stole this silent moment. The slumbering face of my child, any of my children, triggers a well within me, so very ready to overflow at the sight of eyelashes feathered, rosebud mouths pouted with dreams.
What the hell am I even talking about?
You know, don't you?
This will be the last Little Weeks post – but never fear! I'll be moving to a monthly format instead. 🙂
Wrands? Hists?
Yes, I understand. What a sweet moment of pure peace.