52 IN 2014 • 47 + 48 + 49 + 50 + 51 + 52

47/52.

12.13.2014.

Papa is in training in Missouri for a few months and when faced with the decision whether to stay in New Mexico or live in a hotel room for three months, we opted for the hotel room. Every family has a thing they cling to, a motto of sorts - we stay together. So we often find ourselves making a home in the most unlikely of places and celebrating holidays the best we can with what we have. This year, our Christmas decorations consisted of a two foot tree and a grocery bag of decorations. This had me down a bit until I noticed your joy. You were ecstatic. I should be too. Two foot tree or not, we're together. We're a family.

48/52.

12.17.2014.

Christmas tree admiration is top priority in the morning these days.

49/52.

12.18.2014.

Animals from the dollar store have become your favorite bath toy.

50/52.

12.25.2014.

You've wished for a scooter on every dandelion fluff you've come across since we moved to Brooklyn and today, your dream finally came true. Merry Christmas, love.

51/52.

12.26.2014.

We took you fishing for the first time today and it was equal parts excitement and fury.

52/52.

12.31.2014

52 IN 2014 WEEKS 41 + 42 + 43 + 44 + 45 + 46

41/52.

10.07.2014

Some days there is simply too much to explore, too many songs to be played, too much paint to create with to take the time to put on some pants first.

42/52.

10.12.2014.

There are some days when everything goes wrong and it really does ruin it for you, but there are others that the mishaps just add to the charm of. This was a day like that. The night before this, we tried to take you to the balloon flicker, but a storm rolled in. We ended up watching the fireworks from the car. We woke up bright early to try to catch the mass ascension this morning, but it was too windy for them to go up. We huddled up and ate hot Krispy Kreme donuts instead and shouted 'uh-oh' as the balloons got blown over around us. Afterwards, we took our annual pumpkin patch trip (and you've still been talking about it and asking to go back months later).

43/52.

10.16.2014.

We took pictures at the park for a pregnancy announcement - you're going to have a sister or brother in April!

44/52.

10.31.2014

We took you trick or treating tonight dressed as park rangers (and you as Smokey the Bear). This was the first year that you really understood the excitement of free candy, so you bravely led us through the dark neighborhood and marched right up to all of those doors. We woke up the next morning and you asked to do it all over again.

45/52.

11.11.2014.

We took a tour of De Smet Dairy Farm and you really enjoyed it. It's so important to us that you grow up knowing what healthy food is and where it comes from. After you grasped that milk comes from the cows we were standing in front of, you kept asking, 'Can I have some? Can I taste it?' We took home a half gallon and you drank it enthusiastically.

46/52.

11.16.2014.

The first snow of the year fell on Tijeras today. We did a little sledding, ate mitten-fulls of snow, and made snow cream.

52 IN 2014 • WEEKS 36 + 37 + 38 + 39 + 40

36/52.

09.09.2014

You are not a quiet child. Sometimes that can be a challenge, but for the most part I really love it. I love the glimpses it gives me into your personality and interests and ideas. I tell you often, "I like you just the way you are.' I mean it - and I love that you always say it right back, "I like you just the way you are too, Mama!' Sometimes I get a little silly and sing it to you in jingle form. You especially like that. Bath time is one of your only quiet times. You get so engrossed with the bubbles and water - turning them over in your hands, bringing them close to your face, putting them on your head, pouring water out of a cup over and over and over again. It's become one of my favorite things to take pictures of. It's such a pure look into your curiosity.

37/52.

09.12.2014

Today we left our beloved Brooklyn in search of roots and 'home.'

38/52.

09.21.2014

There is a part of you that will always undeniably be a city kid. You thrived on the bustle and stimulation. You loved the life of walks to the park, subway rides, and beach days - but a certain light shines in your eye when you're out in nature. I'm talking about the kind of nature that can't be recreated in Prospect Park with manicured trails and 'carefully constructed playgrounds. You are enamored by the wildness of it all. This is what we came back to New Mexico to give you - untamed nature and untainted childhood wonder. We started our life here off right with a hike at Carlito Springs and while it isn't as 'untamed' as I speak of, it made us all breath a little easier and appreciate the beauty of a place that was once home. I'm looking forward to taking you on many trips in search of adventure here.

39/52.

09.27.2014

A few weeks back, we road our bikes down to a little park under the Verrazano bridge and threw a baseball around. Papa and I took a break in the grass and you started to gather the sticks around us. You put them into a big pile and requested a 'fort.' How a kid who has been in Brooklyn as long as her memories have been forming knew what a fort was is beyond me. It must be innate. So we hopped up and into action and built you a little makeshift fort from branches that had fallen out of those city park trees. You were delighted. Since being back in Albuquerque, Papa has had trouble finding work, so we've had a bit of time on our hands. He's been outside practicing his survival shelter building skills and other things that tickle his fancy and you've been tromping around right behind him. We often call you Donny as an ode to the kid from the Wild Thornberrys because you're basically a tornado of noise and always barefoot with a messy face and wild hair. I absolutely love you that way. I love our talks we have about 'wock cowwections' and bugs and animals and how you gather sticks and pretend to build a fire. The way you can turn any ordinary place into a wilderness to be explored is inspiring.

40/52.

09.28.2014.

You have an unwavering obsession with 'smarshmallows' these days, so I picked some up at the grocery store and we built a little fire in the driveway.

It's been a little quiet over here as I plow through all of the things on my to-do list before the baby comes. I've been sorting through and backing up all of our old pictures and in the process, I managed to finish posting my 365 project from 2013 (weeks 45 -52 if you'd like to reminisce with me) and have now started finishing up this 52 project.

52 IN 2014 • WEEKS 31 + 32 + 33 + 34 + 35

31/52.

07.31.2014

Some of my best memories from my childhood are of doing family crafts. They were also something that I looked forward to the most about having kids someday. We're slowly inching closer to that time where we can sit down and do a craft together. You requested 'buttah-fwy wings,' so I made do with what we had on hand and you loved them.

32/52.

08.01.2014

We took you to the Bronx Zoo for a half birthday celebration of sorts. Your birthday usually falls on a nasty, Winter day so we like to do one of those fun outdoor things you're always pining for in the dead of Winter. You liked the butterfly exhibit and gorillas a lot, but your absolute favorite was the dinosaur safari.

33/52.

08.17.2014

We all took a trip to the MOMA and stopped off for a little picnic on a Central Park boulder afterwards. We watched the the horse and carriages 'clop-clop' by from our mountain on high and you told me the purple one with the big feather on it's head was your favorite.

34/52.

08.23.2014

We took a drive to Niagara Falls for the weekend to celebrate Mama and Papa's fifth anniversary. It was a quick trip, so we did the Cave of the Winds (which you simultaneously peed your pants laughing and sobbed through) and left the tourist attractions at that. I sometimes worry that you won't find our adventures fun, but I'm not sure why I ever doubt you - you have such an adventurous spirit, which makes traveling with you mostly a breeze. You always surprise me with how excited you are to just be somewhere new with us.

35/52.

09.04.2014

Our weekends have been full of adventures lately and it's been fun, but a bit exhausting. This weekend we took the ferry to the Statue of Liberty. You called her 'the big lady holding an ice tream tone.'

'A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014.'

I'm linking up with Jodi over at Practising Simplicity.

52 IN 2014 • WEEKS 28 + 29 + 30

28/52.

 

07.10.2014

This was the first time you blew your own bubbles. We have tried and tried before to no avail - you would blow and blow and just end up with sticky, soapy lips to show for it as you inched closer and closer to the wand in concentration. Adults, myself included, often forget what matters to children, what nourishes their soul - it isn't an expensive preschool or piano lessons or gymnastics classes or even lots of playgroups. It's being given the time to teach themselves how to blow bubbles or catch ladybugs and let them crawl up their arms or listen to stories by candlelight. I've been putting a lot of thought into ways we can focus more on a lifestyle that is nourishing to you over the past few weeks and it's left me contemplative, but also a bit discouraged. It almost seems impossible to even give you what my childhood was full of - climbing fences and riding bikes though our neighborhood and days spent with our feet in a creek catching crawfish and hiking through our woods with a picnic on my back. I read an article titled, 'I miss my village.' a few days ago and I was teary-eyed by the end of it. As much as I wish it could be different and as hard as I look for women who feel the same, it seems that staying home with your babies is just lonely business in today's world. I hope it isn't the same for you someday.

29/52.

07.18.2014

Our pantry is full of all types of jars filled with all types of things - dry beans, nuts, coffee, lentils. Each time we're at the beach, I think of those jars lined up in a row and wish that I could put your beach joy in a jar and set aside all of those for a day when I wish I could hear your two year old self squealing and the pats of your feet running along the wet sand away from the rolling waves. You're marvelous, Evie-doodle, absolutely marvelous.

30/52.

07.26.2014

You have an affinity for dogs that I've never seen in any child - you always have since you were old enough to be able to sit on the floor with them. It doesn't matter the size or the color, long haired or short haired, or even how friendly they are, you're convinced you two were meant to be best friends. I told you Cha-Chi was coming to see us - you replied, ". . . and Maddie?" Though you love all dogs, you seem to have reserved a special place for Maddie. Luckily, she's all you could want and more in a dog you're kid is bound to climb on. You overheard Papa and I talking about 'my sister coming to see us' and piped in with, 'SISTER?! I want a sister!' I giggled and told you regretfully that you don't have a sister (while making eyes at Papa because Mama would love to give you a sister in the coming years, but Papa isn't completely convinced yet). You groaned in disappointment and hung your head low. I thought for a moment and told you, 'Maddie can be your sister.' I watched as a glimpse of a smile passed over your lips and you tried to hide your amusement.

'A portrait of my daughter, once a week, every week, in 2014.'

I'm linking up with Jodi over at Practising Simplicity.

52 IN 2014 • WEEKS 24 + 25 + 26 + 27

24/52

06.14.2014

You seem to have a gift for creating your own haven. You are spunky and spirited, a conversationalist and seeker of answers. It's a gift of yours that I often fail to cultivate. It's something that every adult longs for their children to be, but we all simultaneously become annoyed by these attributes and the endless noise. When we're out in nature, it all changes. I can see that it becomes a spiritual thing for you. It nurtures your soul to get your hands stained with berry juice and dirt caked to your feet. As we walk through rows of strawberries or wade into a creek, all of your questions seem to have no bearing. I hear no, 'What's that?' or even shouts of praise. I only see an eagerness to explore, to soak it all in, to run wild and free.

25/52

06.20.2014

When I'm an old woman that has succumb to a quiet life and been left with my thoughts, I know that I'll often pull these beach days from my arsenal of memories and dwell on them for hours. I will savor the way time seemed to move slow in the moment, but the day seemed to pass quickly. A small smile will come to my face, then crack open wide as my heart breaks at the thought of your bravery growing until you ran straight into the water and kept walking past your waist, oblivious to why the water was getting deeper. You fell into a crashing wave, face first, and Papa had to run and pull you out as he unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile - he smiled not in mocking you, but in appreciation of your innocence. Memories from your first few months of life feel so foggy in my mind, but I hold onto the moments that I marveled at you and all I could think was, 'You're magical.' That thought follows me now, two years later as you dig in the sand and run on the beach. 'You're magical' rings through the air and I'm sure it will continue singing your praises long into your adulthood. I can only imagine your wedding day. As you stand and join yourself with another, tears are sure to stream down my cheeks and I know my heart will still be singing, 'you're magical.' As I watch you nurse and rock your babies to sleep one day, I know I'll still be thinking, 'you're magical.'

26/52

06.21.2014

Your imagination and ability to pretend is starting to blossom. You share your food with your animals and put them to bed, you like to put things on your head to serve as a hat and do 'magic tricks,' and I am often standing still with a smile on my face as you 'zoom zoom' around me to shouts of 'to da rescue!' It brings me unimaginable joy to watch you bridge that gap between baby and kid each day.

27/52

07.06.2014

We took a little road trip out of the city in search of some seclusion and quiet. We packed a picnic and sat on a rock that we originally thought was large enough for the three of us, but it seems we take up more space than we thought. Our feet dangled in the creek water as we talked of the things we wanted for our family, one of them being to be surrounded by beauty and nature daily. After we polished off our tuna pita sandwiches, watermelon, and bag of chips, we waded through the water and just wandered. Papa and I looked at each other in disbelief as you became the bravest soul right before our eyes. You were fearless, running into the water waist high without a care. I had to run to keep up with you and make sure you didn't get swept away by the current. It was a day that nourished our souls and brought us closer as a family.

'A portrait of my daughter once a week, every week, in 2014.'

I'm linking up over at Practisting Simplicity.

52 IN 2014 • WEEKS 20 + 21 + 22 + 23

20/52

05.11.2014

When we announced that we were moving to Brooklyn, so many people were surprised and some were almost. . . offended. People tend to do that when they pride themselves on thinking you're a certain person, then you throw them through a loop. You see, we love being outside. I would even go so far as to say we're farm people at heart. We dream of a simple home, a big garden, fruit trees, chickens, and Papa says goats, but we'll debate that at another time. But we're young and haven't seen much, haven't done much yet, so we decided on a city adventure. The plan is to put in our time now on degrees and businesses, then when we're able to have that idyllic home we've dreamt of we'll have the time and energy to enjoy it. City living makes that all a bit easier - no car, no yard to mow - it just makes things simpler for us. New York City won't be our forever, but what plenty of people don't know is that there are a myriad of places to go that transport you far away from the city. There are miles and miles of beautiful parks in the city and plenty just a short drive away. One of my biggest worries when moving here was that we wouldn't be able to get you out into nature enough. You seem to flourish there and I didn't want to take that from you, but we seem to be finding our nature spots. Most weekends we're able to add another one to our list. I love watching you come alive here. I love watching you run with abandonment through the trails and the trees, then holding your tired body in my lap on the train ride home.

21/52

05.20.2014

You've become an expert pigeon-spotter (and chaser).

22/52

05.29.2014

We went for a picnic down by the shore today. I saw a little boy picking dandelion puffs and it dawned on me that I had never shown you how they float in the wind when you blow them. So we picked the whole field of them and you practice, practice, practiced and spent all your wishes on a 'stooter' or 'bike.' Things have been a bit out of sorts these days. I find myself wondering what to do to keep you entertained during the day and then something small like this makes me realize that there is still so much you've never experienced before, so many small things that you take joy in. I just have to guide you to them. On our picnic, we also saw a group of preschool kids marching and singing and you would have thought it was a circus by the way your face lit up. The teacher asked them all to stop and say hello and wave to you and you squealed with excitement. I'm hoping to find some friends for you to play with soon. I know you must be a little lonely.

23/52

06.10.2014

6 things I never want to forget about you at 2 years, four months:

(because I couldn't settle on just 5)

1. In the morning you wander over to the bedroom door and yell for me, 'Mama!' then you knock on the door. I hear those little taps and I put down my coffee and whatever I'm reading and I walk to the door. When I open it, you give me an excited, 'Hi! Good morning!' (You always awake bright eyed and bushy tailed and alas, I do not, so I get up before you to prepare myself for the onslaught of giving I'll have to do throughout the day.) I pick you up and walk you into the living room where you always notice that the yoga mat is out and ask, 'Mama, you doing yogurt? Dat you yogurt mat?'

2. We have one bedroom, so we all sleep in the same room, of course. When we left Albuquerque, we left our bed and your crib behind, so we're all just sleeping on mattresses on the floor right now. We usually come to bed a bit later than you and we often find that you've crawled off your mattress and over to my spot in our bed, curled in a ball in a sea of blanket, head on my pillow and all.

3. For awhile you hated to have your hair brushed. The compromise that we made was that you got to brush my hair after I was finished with yours. You liked that so much that you sporadically ask if you can brush my hair throughout the day. You even ask me to take my 'pony' out for you. You also love when I tickle you with the ends of it.

4. You have a pair of white Mary Jane dress shoes that I got for free at a thrift store on the base in New Mexico. They're scuffed and the soles are worn, but you love them just the same and want to wear them everywhere, with anything, rain or shine. They're the only shoes you love more than your rain boots.

5. I love the way you say snack - 'fffnnnnack' with the and f and n blown out your nose. It takes you an immeasurable amount of time to say, 'Mama, I want a fnnnaaack pease.'

6. I'll never get over way you acknowledge the camera coming out with an emphatic 'cheeeessse!' followed by a pucker to try and hide your smile.

52 IN 2014 • WEEKS 15 + 16 + 17 + 18 + 19

15/52

04.08.2014

It was a little over four months ago that a very similar scene was unfolding in our backyard in Albuquerque. If there's one thing I've learned in this journey, it's to relinquish control. In our perfect plan we would have moved to Brooklyn financially secure, right away, into our forever apartment, and had a job waiting for your Papa when we got there. None of those things were true. We left Albuquerque with barely a thing in our bank account, no promise of a job, and it has taken a lot of time and effort and a bit of settling to find an apartment, but we did it. Sometimes you just have to face the fact that you need a little gap in between, a place to rest your head and gather your thoughts and fight for the next step. We drive into Brooklyn tomorrow to unload that tiny trailer full of our most important things. I can't imagine the emotions that will fill me as we coast across that bridge and into our future. I've dreamt of this from the time I was a little girl and I'm thankful my plan to move here five years ago didn't work out. It allowed me to be able to bring you along for the ride, to see this city through your eyes, to share my love for this place with you. I can't help but feel like we're driving towards something wonderful, towards a better future for you, to more possibility. All I ever wanted to be able to do was give my child more than I had - I think that's every parent's wish, and doing so is the most gratifying thing.

16/52

04.18.2014

We've been in Brooklyn a little over a week and distinctly New York things have already become our normal, like riding the subway. You are so ecstatic to ride the subway every time. Your excitement never wanes. If we even walk by the entrance and you catch a glance of those stairs, you launch into a frenzy - 'I wanna ride dat sub-way!' You always draw out the end - 'sub-wayyy.' You call Manhattan 'my New Yort' and you ask to go there every day. 'We go my New Yort? We ride dat sub-way?' If I ask you where we live you giddily smile and quickly and quietly say 'Bwooklyn.' Papa and I both grew up in what most people would consider the country, so it's a little strange and funny to be raising a city kid. We talk a lot about how weird it is that this place will be such a part of you. I mostly wonder if you'll have a New York accent. I only lived in Phoenix until I was eight years old, but so much of me feels like I was built in that Summer heat. Arizona still feels like such a part of me. I'll always have desert in my soul, just like you'll always have this city in yours. Something about that would have made my eighteen year old self smile when I thought I was giving up my dream to move here. Sharing this experience with you is incredibly special.

17/52.

04.27.2014

There are certain moments when I look at you and wish that I could bottle you up and keep you in that state forever, preserve everything about you so that I could open it up and experience it again someday. They're usually just ordinary days, small insignificant moments like this one. We were walking home from church and I asked your Papa to stop walking for a minute so that I could take a picture. We had come from an Easter egg hunt in Prospect Park, and it was past nap time. Your Papa and I were talking. We stopped mid-sentence to look over and see you wrestling with this balloon. You shoved it onto your head, almost over your eyes, and slumped over with a look on your face like you were barely tolerating us. It was the first time I had seen a glimpse of someone who was no longer a baby at all. You were a kid and you were annoyed and like any good parent would, we laughed and you didn't even crack a smile, which made us laugh harder.

18/52

05.04.2014

When I was a kid, there was a commercial on that highlighted all the different ways that people eat Oreos. I like to dip half my cookie in milk for just a second, maybe two, take a bite then immediately follow it with a drink of milk that swirls around the cookie, making it taste like you've let it soak in milk without making it soggy. Papa likes to throw his whole cookie into the glass of milk, let it sit for minutes until it barely resembles a cookie, gross me out thoroughly, then eat it. Sometimes he has to use a spoon to fish it out. You like to put your finger between the cookie sandwich to get the cream out. In the process, you break the cookie into pieces and put them in a pile to the side. Once you've finished all the cream, you take the broken cookie pieces, break any larger pieces that remain, then throw it all in your cup. They inevitably sit in there for quite sometime then you fish them out with your hand. Papa and I have watched you do this multiple times now and each time I'm struck at how you are so much of us, but so much of your own person at the same time. You would think you would observe the way we eat our cookies and copy one of us, but you don't. You make your own way. It's like the one dimple you have - neither your Papa or I have a dimple. That is your own trait. That's what makes you, you. I love discovering these little things about you.

19/52

05.06.2014

We spent the day in Central Park and what used to feel like a tourist attraction that needed to be documented and seen in its entirety, started to feel a bit like our backyard. 'Home' is a word that is almost as mysterious as 'love' to me. What makes a place feel like home? Time? Family? The friends you meet? Your favorite spots you find? I'm not sure, but I look forward to slowly finding our way to home in this city together. You seem to have taken to this place faster than we have and deemed it your 'home' - I'm grateful. My biggest fear in moving out of New Mexico was that you would be confused, unhappy, or mourn for our house and backyard and chickens and friends. You have a love for this place that probably surpasses mine and shines out of your face every day you wake up and realize we're still here. 

52 IN 2014 • WEEK 14

04.06.2014

Our time in Washington D.C. is coming to an end, so I've been trying to prepare you for what's to come. I've been talking with you about what you might expect to see in New York City and telling you stories of the times I've visited. We talk about the tall buildings and all the people and cars, but mostly we talk about riding the subway. You are a public transit enthusiast! We borrowed this book from the library and I've come in to find you sleeping with it during your naps over the last few days. We've also been talking a lot about having our own house again and you get giddy with excitement each time I mention it! It impressed me that you even understood the concept of having a home together. You've been chatting nonstop about the things you 'membah' (remember) - 'membah dose chickies in dat backyard, Mama? membah Ezra?' We're all still a little homesick for New Mexico - I think we always will be. It's such a magical place that I hope you never forget. I hope it will always be a part of who you are. I hope you'll always have a little New Mexico in your soul like Mama and Papa do. As much as we miss our life back in Albuquerque, we're also all really excited about the adventures we're bound to have in New York City. This is the biggest thing I've ever done in my life besides marrying your Papa and having you, of course. I have a feeling it's going to change the course of our lives for the better.

'I've been absolutely terrified every moment of my entire life and

I've never let it keep me from doing a single thing that I wanted to do.'

'Where I was born and where and how I have lived is unimportant.

It is what I have done with where I have been that should be of interest.'

'One can't paint New York as it is, but rather as it is felt.'

- Georgia O'Keeffe

52 in 2014 • Week 13

03.30.2014

You are such an inherently grateful and thoughtful kid. Papa made you a simple little necklace with a leather string and some plastic animal beads and you were over the moon. You always get so excited when I bring home a surprise for you, which makes it really hard for me to say no to buying you more toys and things I know you don't need. We were sharing a snack of cheese and crackers today and it came down to the last piece of cheese and the last cracker. I left it alone, wondering what you would do. You grabbed it up and I thought you were going to stuff it into your mouth because you were quite hungry, but you set the piece of cheese on top of the cracker, examined it carefully for any imperfections, set it down gently and slid it across the table. 'Here, Mama. You bite.' you said. So I took a bite and put the other half in your mouth. You smiled a cheese and crumb filled smile and exclaimed, 'Mama shared!' Most of parenting is fumbling around never really knowing whether you're doing it right or not, but every once in awhile your kid does something that makes your heart soar and you think to yourself, 'I guess I'm doing something right.' I love how willing you are to share with other kids. I love how many 'dank you's I get each day for the smallest things. I love how joyful you are when it comes to the simplest things like reading a book. Reading a book is a huge production for you. It isn't simply listening to one story. It's the process of choosing just a few, climbing into my lap, asking 'Mama, you read dis one pease?,' climbing down, putting them back on the shelf, asking for more books, another! Staying at home isn't an easy task for me. It's really challenging for my personality, but I would gladly do it another 10 or 20 years for you. You are so worth it. I'm so thankful I get to spend hours watching you morph into this outstanding little girl.

'If you have good thoughts, they will shine out of your face like sunbeams and you will always look lovely.'

- Roald Dahl

52 in 2014 • Week 12

03.21.2014

I haven't picked up my camera much lately. So little actually, that I'm sure there will be gaps in this 52 project. Life hasn't gotten especially busy lately in terms of finding time to pick up the camera or blog, but it has been busy and exhausting mentally. When we have some quiet time to ourselves, I really just want to be alone or be with you and Papa. Picking up the camera has been the last thing on my mind and it's refreshing, but I miss capturing little moments like these. You are so determined to do things on your own these days. I know it's normal for a two year old, but it makes things difficult at times. You want to put your own socks on, but we're running late. You don't want to hold Mama's hand, but we're in a parking lot full of cars. You want to carry the basket at the grocery store, but it's too heavy. I love to watch you bask in pride when you accomplish something on your own. I wish I could throw practicality out the window and let you do things for yourself all the time, but I think it's good for you learn to accept help early because there are going to be things in life that you might not be able to accomplish on your own. I know that you are capable of anything. I know that you are strong and intelligent and confident, but support can really make a difference. I really like to be by your side, helping you make it up those steps, keeping you safe while we walk on the busy sidewalks, putting your socks on while you're still small enough to fit in my lap. With every new feat you accomplish, I'm reminded of a quote I read long before you were born about children not waiting for you. You grow and live and love whether I'm ready for it or not, whether I have my priorities straight or not. My biggest goal in life is to mother in a way that leaves no room for regrets. You are my most important legacy, little woman.

'You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone.'

Louisa May Alcott