Because I Want All These Moments To Last And Last

Do you see those eyes? They make me melt (and that hair is so wispy and light and my goodness, yes, it smells just heavenly).

She insisted on swinging like a big girl today, up on the big kid swings, two hands on the chains and off she went. (It's times like this when I realize that she must have already done this while at daycare because she took to it effortlessly -- a little wondrous, a little heartbreaking, but as always, I'm so proud of her.)

I'm not ready for her to turn two.

(In four months I won't be either.)

We took to the park this evening, creeping between the trees, picking up berries & rocks & leaves & dirt & bits of what not. She loves to kick the leaves and carry sticks that are taller than her.

And I take a step back to watch. Because her independence often astounds me (especially after afternoons of intense separation anxiety & tears, but I know she's taking it all in stride. Or maybe I am. But at least we're trying.)

So serious. So beautiful.

Eventually it's time to head home.

Bathtime, bedtime, storytime.

But first she gives the earth a hug (and counts to ten while pointing to spray paint markings on the road because she thinks that they are numbers).

After her bath she snuggled up on my chest and drank her milk til she fell asleep. I rubbed her back until my hand tingled & my heart felt the very same.