love letter

So the rain and sleet are falling and the thunder rumbling. The Christmas tree is lit and glowing. I am so grateful, so thankful. And for some reason I want to address my two ladies, in all their loveliness (I guess it might be because I just read soulemama's letter to her tiny one . . . ).

Miss Aurora, I love your laugh. And the way you adore the darkness of black ink. And how your face lights up over stuffed animals, however homely they may be. Your gangly feet. How you always ask about a new word when you hear it. I adore your affection for our critters, the way you hold the chickens close to you and pat them on their backs. The way you tuck Zeppo gently beneath a blanket. I love how you wear pink and sparkles as if they were a religion. Your obsession with cat-mice. The faint dusting of freckles on your cheeks. How your hair kinks up after we wash it. The concentration in your eyes as you do your "work." The radical creativity of YOU is astounding. I love you as you come into your own in this moment, swinging high, with your long, restless legs stretched out before you.

My Laurel Bean, you are beyond darling now. Every bit of the earth that you step on becomes new under your feet, which are unsteady, like those of a little sailor on this earth-ship, the decks bucking beneath you. You say "hi" to us each morning, scooting around the bed, the seats worn right out of your pants. You are a cautious daredevil, not wanting to walk until you were sure, but wanting to climb like a monkey now and always. You are beautiful, your sweet pert face both absolutely present in every moment and completely timeless. Your occasional word is always a surprise, like "strawberry" or "definitely." You can make a friend with anyone. Your gift in this regard astounds me and humbles me. That fearless smile. I love that you are here, that you are healthy, that you are ours--or, more accurately, that we are so helplessly yours--for this fleeting moment.