Where are you going, my little one?

Photography: Joshua Ford, Ford Photography

My mom used to sing to me the lullaby, "Turn Around," when I was little. If you're not familiar, I'll leave it to you to Google the lyrics (and then get weepy), but this song keeps running through my head these days when I look at Elaine. She is wobbling along that very fine line between "little girl" and just "girl," weaving from one side to the other, not quite sure where she wants to be. And it's magical and heartrending and all-around wonderfully bittersweet. I find myself awestruck at this small human we've created and are raising. And I'm drinking in every cuddle, bedtime story, hair wash, piggyback, handhold, butterfly kiss that I can before one-by-one she outgrows them. And yet, even as I try to hold tight to these moments, I can't deny the flicker of excitement to discover who she'll become in this next year and the year after and the years after that. Because I think she's going to be someone pretty remarkable.

Easter Bunny No More

After a busy few days taking advantage of Spring Break, we kept things very low key on Easter. Just an early morning egg hunt and baskets from the Easter Bunny. Well, Nick got a basket from the Easter Bunny. Lainey got a basket from us.

Saturday night during her bath, Lainey started interrogating me on the Easter Bunny. I tried to hedge, but by the way she questioned me and the smirk on her face, I knew the jig was up. So, I reminded her that Nick was only 5 and that her friends might still believe, so mum’s the word.

Mark and I were a little sad, just because it means she’s growing up. But, we both agree the Easter Bunny is a pretty dumb concept, and we could do without the whole charade. But, I don’t think Santa is going to survive another Christmas...and that’s gonna sting.