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05 July 2017

Oh

Alana,

You'll never realize how stinking cute you are. 

You are an enigma, really, though. 

You have this easy going demeanor until the minute you don't. 

I am convinced there has never been a cuter tantrum-thrower than you. 

The way you immediately slide into the floor like a baseball player stealing home. 

You'll roll, tumble, wail, shake your head. 

Sometimes, if you're really feeling an epic battle raging within, you'll even pause to survey the floor, do a pirouette, and proceed to the slide. 

It's quite artistic, if I do say so myself. 

But they never last long, do they. 

Perhaps because mommy is nonplussed if not amused. 

I want to capture you in all your cuteness. In all the ways you look at me. The way you move quietly to a corner when you don't want me to see what you're playing with.  The way your eyes innocently lock mine when you see me, see you, doing whatever it is that you shouldn't be doing. 

The way you rifle through my wallet and toss around my major credit cards. 

The way you point at everything and nothing. And you say "oh" as you do it. 

Your chunky arm lifting, rather lazily, in whatever direction the wind blows as if to show me something even when there's absolutely nothing to see. 

Oh.

I want you to know I love you so much it's almost painful. Or whatever word that doesn't exist in our English Language that embodies the ache of a complete love.  Even when the love drives you crazy. Even when the love creates super big messes. Even when the love has tantrums. 
 
Oh.
 










 


 

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