This weekend I have had time to sit and be fascinated by my daughter. I have always found it humorous that I can watch her for hours a day--sleeping, talking, laughing, playing. I feel like every time I take my eyes off her for a second she is growing up. She is ever the entertainer, concocting strange and complicated outfits to parade around in, corralling one of the dogs to be her horse, her goat, whatever pops into her head. If I let a bad word fly out of my mouth she will inevitably find some inventive way of repeating it while exclaiming over something that happens on the cartoon she is watching. She can no longer be trusted not to say something embarassing in public regarding someone's hair color, use of supplemental oxygen, nail polish, or general attire. Trust me. She is so wonderfully patient with me, much more so than I am with her sometimes. She refuses to learn to write her name, preferring instead to watch me beg and try to come up with creative ways to trick her into learning. She loves princesses. And fairies. Together, she and I know all the Disney movies and nearly every princess type children's book that exists is on our bookshelf. She loves to have her nails painted. She thinks everything is funny. When you are four years old, everything is part of a fairy tale. I pray she gets to stay in it for awhile longer, this world where "bad" is clearly identifiable and no one ever truly dies.
Photograph by Racetay via Etsy
Photograph by Celtic Cat Photos via Etsy
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