Yup, I’m six months old. I’m actually a few days older than six months old because you couldn’t get your ass in gear to write this post. Uh, no. I’m writing this. Not you. Right. Sorry for the crude language, you’ll still feed me in the morning, right? Read the rest of this entry »
I am your mother.
I dreamed of you before your souls were tied to any physical existence. I was your mother before you even came to be. Your existence floated all around me, waiting. In the beginning, your physical form came into being within mine, pulled from the ether into my body. The first electrical currents of your thoughts began inside my body—each of you, the tiniest snow globe inside of me, housing the cracks and thunder bolts of your emerging personality. The first thumps of your hearts, began in me. Read the rest of this entry »
Yes, little mama. You turned two today. I don’t know how that happened at all. You really just burst into the world, carefree and independent. I’m pretty sure you’re going to give your father and I a run for our money when you get a little older, but I’m ready. It’ll be worth it to see the independent, witty, forthright person I know is already taking shape in you. Happy birthday, sweetie. Love you.