Friday, November 6, 2015

Eighth Month With You

Alamae James, with your four half teeth, your selective smiles, your determined crawl. Today you climbed two stairs when my back was turned.  

You clap on command. You prefer to perch on my left hip, prefer your father even more still. You pull yourself up. You fall down. You bruise your sweet cheeks, and immediately seek new adventures. You make my world better and brighter and far more exhausting. 

 You are loved beyond compare.

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